Mother Moon
by LilKiwiBird
Summary: Alice fell down the rabbit hole, Little Red Riding Hood strayed off the beaten path, and myself? I followed Lila Garcia into the woods that Summer of '95
1. Into the Woods

**July 1995**

Sweat clung to Hermione Granger's brow and a certain nakedness hung over her head as she wondered around the edges of the Forbidden Forest with hands brushing over fern bushes and cracked trunks.

Bare feet padded against the moist undergrowth where fallen leaves and small clumps of mud found themselves stuck to the bottom of her feet as she padded along. The occasional broken twig or bent bramble found themselves entangled and then quickly removed from the long sleeves of the Quidditch sweater she'd nicked from Harry earlier in the year.

Amongst the giant trees that reached skywards, with the large canopy bending over her in large archways and tunnels she felt a little sense of peace; one that amongst her sudden sea of nerves was most welcome.

And what was the cause of theses sudden nerves? Whilst Harry and Ron were back in the Gryffindor Common Room putting off packing their trunks until the very last minute, probably playing yet _another_ round of Wizard's Chess; Hermione had gone to Professor Mcgonagall to return her treasured time-turner.

For an entire year Hermione had been blessed with using the time-turner to attend her classes. Every. Single. One. She had almost hoped that Mcgonagall had forgotten about her possession of it so that she could keep the time-turner forever. And she almost had, until the year had devolved into yet another death-defying stunt involving the trio. Because what year wasn't complete with death hanging over your head?

However with the truth of Sirius Black's innocence and relation to Harry coming to light, it had shocked those involved (or at least those who didn't know) and yet despite this, Sirius still hadn't been cleared of his so-called crimes. Dumbledore had said there hadn't been enough evidence, not even with Sirius' memories of event nor testimonies from those involved concerning Peter Pettigrew's real affiliations. But Hermione was starting to think that the headmaster just liked having yet another wayward soul under his thumb.

And so here she was, alone in the woods and feeling rather naked without the familiar golden pendant hanging between her breasts; where it would thump in time to her footsteps as she walked or the magic within the time sand within would pulse in time with her heartbeat.

With a sigh, Hermione was brought out of her musings by the feeling of cold water splashing around her ankles. Looking down, she saw that her feet had carried her further into the forest than she had originally intended and her bare legs were currently partially dipped in the cold lake water that lapped at the shore.

She knew this place, she had been here only mere days before when she and Harry had travelled through time to break out Sirius from his temporary prison and had subsequently found themselves on the forest side of the lakeshore watching both past Sirius and Harry become swamped by the dementors that were hunting them.

_Though the absence of the dementors is a relief._ Hermione mused, thankful for the Ministry reluctantly withdrawing the dark creatures from the school grounds. Staring down at her reflection in the water around her ankles, Hermione could see all the changes in her that hadn't been there at the beginning of the year.

The most obvious (to her at least) was her appearance; due to the constant use of the time-turner during the year she was now technically fifteen, something that was easily seen through the loss of baby fat around her face or the development of her breasts moving up a cup.

_And hadn't that been fun?_ Hermione winced recalling the fears and anxieties that had arisen when she had first gotten her period. Sure, it was kind of covered at her muggle primary school and she had written her mother on more than one occasion about the issue; but theory was only so good in the face of bloody practicality. In the end she had asked Angelina Johnson, one of the elder Gryffindor girls for help; something that the older girl had turned into more of celebration than anything Hermione had ever imagined.

Then there was the way she had started to dress. Gone were the constricting skirts and matronly dresses, instead she had begun to garb herself in oversized sweaters (ones that she usually nicked from either Harry or Ron) and baggy jeans that were cinched at the waist by a cracked leather belt with rolled hems that rested just below her knees.

And then there was this look in her eyes, one that made her seem older than she was supposed to be. Even though she had always been one of the older girls in her year both physically and in the way she acted; now she really was-both physically and emotionally.

_SNAP!_

Hermione's head shot up from her watery reflection at her feet to find herself face to face with another girl. She was a tiny little thing, barely a head or so taller than her but held herself with an air of tranquility that seemed almost like a cat in the sun.

But it wasn't just the way this older girl held herself (for despite her size, she was clearly a few years older than Hermione), there was also the chocolate brown locks that fell in loose sprigs from where they had escape from the braid hanging over her shoulder and the piercing stormy eyes that roved over the form like she was looking for something.

"Hello" Came the gentle greeting from the small brunette, her tilted slightly like she was listening to something Hermione couldn't hear and a satisfied smirk graced her lips when she seemed to find whatever it was she was looking for. She looked very much like the cat that had the cream.

"…Uh…hi?" Hermione replied, shifting in place with slight unease at the older girl's expression.

For some reason Hermione felt drawn to this unknown girl, whether it was the magic that was emanating from her that reminded of the way the time-turner used to pulse in time with her own, or maybe it was the way that the girl held herself, so sure and at peace.

Just then a hand was shoved into her face, palm up. "Um…?" Hermione murmured looking from the waiting hand in front of her to the girl it was connected to.

"Are you coming?" The girl asked feeling no need to explain further, something that tickled Hermione's interest.

_Why was she in forest? Was she headed somewhere? Why did she want me to go too?_ Hermione wondered, her thoughts running wild with questions unsaid.

"Well?"

When she looked back on this moment in time, Hermione wouldn't be sure why she did it. Was it because of her sudden vulnerability? Or because of the magnetism of the witch before her? Could be because of her need of more female friends in her life? Or the unanswered questions that the witch had unknowingly presented to her?

Both then and now, Hermione would never be able to say what it was exactly, but with hesitant steps she emerged from the cold lake and placed her hand in the one before her. The older witch smiled brightly at her and as one they entered further into the Forbidden Forest, marching forth hand-in-hand towards a future that would be different than the last.


	2. Back to the Burrow

_**August 1995**_

_A lot has happened over the summer. _Hermione mused as she twisted this way and that in front of the full length mirror, admiring one of the few dresses that she actually owned. The floral dress rested lightly on her figure, flowing in the non-existent breeze as she turned, allowing her a freedom her previous dresses or skirts had not.

While the floral print itself was neither loud nor large, it suited her and fitted well against the cream background on which it sat, accentuating what curves she had developed; there was even a small amount of cleavage on display from the gentle v-neck of the dress.

And Hermione was right, a lot _had_ changed over the summer, not only with her sudden change in wardrobe (suddenly taking an interest in more floral patterns) and physical changes (like how her messy curls now rested just above her shoulders); but also within herself as a witch as well.

Spinning on her heel again, Hermione was able to catch glimpses of the tattoo through the slightly sheer fabric covering her back. Unlike the quote written across her father's chest or the small love-heart on her mother's hip that stayed stationary where they had been imprinted; the one she had, was a Wizarding tattoo, meaning that much like the portraits at Hogwarts or the Daily Prophet's photos, it could move.

When dormant, the tattoo was depicted as the three phases of the moon or more commonly recognised as the symbol of the triple goddess, Hecate and happily rested between her shoulder blades. However when woken, the tattoo stretched far and wide, covering her flesh in autumn markings that represented her moniker, the otter.

Because of the certain spell used on this tattoo, it would awaken only during the full moon, glowing in its embrace, showing Hermione's affiliation and worship of the goddess. As it was, her parents (although baring their own) weren't aware of her own tattoo; seeing as not only was she underage (both magically and muggle) but she was unsure on how to the broach the topic.

For how do you tell your parents that at fifteen you had joined a coven that met every full moon in the woods to dance and pray to a goddess that many had long considered a mythical legend? Hermione sure didn't, so as it was she'd taken to wearing a pair of silver moon studs that were charmed to glamour her tattoo from peering eyes.

"Mrrow!" Crookshanks yawned from atop her recently packed school trunk, catching her attention.

"What is Crooks?" Hermione questioned turning to face her familiar, where the Kneazle was stretched out, sunning himself in the patch of sun crawling through her bedroom window and warming the trunk.

"Hermione!" Her mother's shrill voice called up the stairs over the sound of the doorbell, answering her question, "Can you come down?"

"Coming Mum!" She replied, slipping her wand behind her right ear where it blended in with her wild curls and padded down the stairs.

Bare feet met floorboard just as the front door was opened to reveal Ginny and Mr Weasley standing on the front porch, ready to collect her for the Quidditch World Cup a day or two later. "Ah, 'ello! You must Hermione's parents! Lovely to meet you! Lovely!" Tall, thin and balding a joyous Mr Weasley crossed over the threshold and grasped first her father's hand and then her mother's in a tight grip, shaking their hands up and down in greeting.

"Yes, yes, 'ello, 'ello" Her father replied, somewhat overwhelmed by Mr Weasley's extravagant attitude.

"Hi Hermione!" Ginny greeted, coming around the side of her father as the two were ushered to their modest living room.

"Hullo Ginny!" Hermione replied, pulling the younger girl in for a hug as both their fathers devolved into chatters about the nuances between the Wizarding and Muggle communities.

"Wow! Look at you!" Ginny held out at arm's length to really study the changes in her brother's best friend.

"You like it?" Hermione smiled doing a twirl, feeling once again more like a girl than she had in a while.

"Y-You've cut your hair! And pierced your ears!"

"Yeah, I felt like a change"

"Well, I like it"

"Thanks"

"Hermione?" Her mother cut in before the two girls could dissolves into endless chatter just as their fathers had.

"Yes, Mum?" Hermione asked, head slightly tilted.

"Have you got your trunk ready?"

"Uh huh, it's upstairs"

"C'mon then, let's go get it!" Ginny piped up, weaving her arm through Hermione's and leading her back up the stairs, leaving her mother to deal with the two men gas-bagging like a couple of old hens.

* * *

_THUNK!_

_THUNK!_

_THUNK!_

With Crookshanks purring happily from Ginny's arms and Hermione dragging her large school trunk behind her down the stairs, the two were met with the sight of Mrs Granger watching exasperatedly over the rim of her teacup at Mr Weasley and her husband crowded around the kitchen table where many of his dentistry tools were laid out.

Mr Weasley was waving his arms in the air excitedly with a face-splitting grin etched on his face as Hermione's father was undoubtably explaining the ins and outs of his occupation as a dentist and what each tool was used for. Hermione knew that if they left there long enough, her father would undoubtedly offer to demonstrate on Mr Weasley himself.

"Uh…Dad?" Hermione piped up at her mother's pleading gaze and next to her Ginny rolled her eyes at her own father's predictable excitement.

"Yes, dear?" Mr Granger turned to face his daughter, only to see the two girls standing in the archway of the living room all ready to go"Ah you're all ready? Good, good"

Mr Weasley followed his companion's gaze to the two girls standing there looking as if they had walked in on something. "Right, time to go then?"

"You've got everything then? All your books? Underwear?" Her mother set down her cup and joined the group in the doorway.

"Mum!" Hermione whined.

"Okay, okay! Well, have fun!"

Hugs and farewells were exchanged as Mr Weasley pulled out a rather gaudy-looking garden gnome statue about the size of a softball and held it out to the two girls. "Uh…it's a gnome?" Hermione questioned wondering why Mr Weasley had pulled this item out of his pocket.

"It's not just a gnome, it's a port-key" Ginny explained, freeing one hand from beneath Crookshanks to grab ahold of one of the worn red boots.

"Right, any minute now, just grab on" Mr Weasley instructed.

Hermione double-checked that her wand was still tucked behind her ear and her school trunk was in her hand. A quick glance over her shoulder saw that her mother was waving goodbye with her gentle smile in place.

"Right, 3, 2…" Mr Weasley count down checking his watch.

"Hermione!" Ginny cried and Hermione's spare hand shot out and grabbed ahold of the gnome's other boot just in time for the trio to disappear with a crack.


	3. They're Here!

The next day after a rather hearty breakfast filled with redheads, chatter and home-cooked food, Hermione found herself become practically mauled by yet another red head, only this one wasn't a part of the Weasley clan. "Minnie!" cried Charlotte Anderson, as she all but jumped onto the brunette's back.

Charlotte was in sixth year this year, same as Fred and George, only Hermione frequently thought that the Hufflepuff acted like twelve year old more often than not. Much like most of her other female friends (sans Ginny), Hermione had met Charlotte through the coven and had found a sisterly-bond in the older badger.

"Ack! Charlie!" Hermione cried out, stumbling in surprise at the sudden appearance of her friend before the two fell to the ground in a pile of giddy laughter and limbs on the Weasley's front lawn.

"Yes?" Came the unexpected reply from a pair of feet now taking up Hermione's view; they belonged to one of Ron's older brother's, Charles Weasley.

"No not you, Weasley!" Charlotte laughed, rolling over to face the fellow ginger above her.

"But I heard my name!"

_"No,_ you heard mine!"

"G'off you big oaf!" Hermione laughed, pushing the older girl off of her and into the grass next to her.

"Oof!" Charlotte gasped when a grass-stained Hermione turned to face her friend.

"Having fun there, Charlie?" Hermione teased.

"Oh yeah, bucket loads!" Charlotte brushed grass off of her shirt when she sat upright, ignoring the man next to them "Look at you! You're practically glowing!"

"Ha!" Hermione barked out a laugh, well aware that as a part of the coven, Charlotte could see through the glamour and could see that (along with her own) her tattoo had awoken, covering her in her moniker.

Charlotte's own markings were coloured closer to the earthier tones just before the turn of autumn, when the leaves were just starting to brown. The markings she could see at least, flowed in smooth brushstrokes over her high cheekbones and encircled her eyes and fingers in rings, showing her moniker as raccoon. Despite the glamoured black floral choker she wore, Hermione could see that the ginger's markings glowed just as brightly as her own.

In the meantime, Charles had disappeared back into the house only to be replaced by the troublemaking twins. "Anderson…" Began Fred looming over the two.

"…What are you doing here?" George ended, mirroring his twin.

"I don't remember…"

"…Inviting you or…"

"…Giving you a ticket"

"That's because you didn't; I've got me own" Smiled Charlotte, well used to the twins' antics by now, "I'm not too far off and Minnie here mentioned you lot are heading in too. Your Ma figured it'd be easier just ta all go together"

"Well, that explains the ticket…" Started George.

"…But how d'ya know dear Mia here?" Fred ended, ruffling a hand on the top of Hermione's messy locks, much like he would with Ginny.

"Oh Minnie and I are real close!" Charlotte bared a secretive grin.

"Practically sisters!" Added Hermione matching her grin.

* * *

Later that day after Charlotte had been herded inside and introduced to the rest of the Weasley clan, the two sat once more in the garden this time watching as Crookshanks had fun with the garden gnomes running rampant amongst the daisies.

Both teens had changed earlier that day from their grass-stained PJs (Hermione's consisting of a pair of loose flannel shorts plus one of Ron's old Chudley Cannons t-shirts whereas Charlotte's old band tee & frilly shorts could've passed for regular daywear) to more appropriate clothes to romp around the garden in.

Hermione had gone with a sleeveless floral blouse tucked into a pair of fraying jean shorts and had completely foregone shoes, instead opting to knead the grassy lawn with her bare toes as the two talked. In turn, Charlotte had dressed in a black floral spaghetti strap dress that fell to her thighs overtop of a plain white t-shirt and she too had gone without shoes.

Hermione had immensely enjoyed catching up with the ginger, having only seen her earlier in the month when most of the coven had met up to go see The Brady Bunch Movie at the cinema and then out for lunch afterwards and then again when they had met up at Diagon Alley to get their books for the year.

The two had spent the afternoon talking about everything and nothing all at once; outright discussing trivial things like how Ron and Mrs Weasley had reacted to Hermione's makeover to covertly talking about things about the coven. At one point Ginny had attempted to join the two, but seemed to feel like she was missing out on a lot of the jokes and so had left to bother her brothers.

_THUD!_

The sudden noise followed by full silence from within the house caught both girls' attention and after sharing a glance, brought their empty lunch plates inside as they went to investigate the commotion.

"…Tell me _what,_ Arthur?" Mrs Weasley demanded, hands on hips as she narrowed her gaze at her suddenly sheepish husband surrounded by several of her very nervous sons.

"Some~one's in trou~ble!" Charlotte sang quietly, to which Hermione merely smiled as the two met up with Ginny and joined the rest of the Weasley's inside the living room where Mrs Weasley was on the war path.

"Oh look! Harry's here!" Ginny pointed out, nudging Hermione in the ribs when she spotted the bespeckled boy standing in front of fireplace.

The trio smiled at the nervous boys in front of them and Hermione felt her smile fall into a smirk as she watched Harry's gaze drift over Charlotte, originally dismissing her as yet another Weasley, before doing a double take and confusedly counting the redheads around him as well as taking note of Hermione's makeover. Without even looking, Hermione was sure that Charlotte was mirroring her expression. On her other side, Ginny had flushed red when Harry had returned her grin.

"Tell me w_hat,_ Arthur?" Mrs Weasley repeated.

"It's nothing, Molly" Mr Weasley mumbled, "Fred and George just…but I've had words with them…"

"What have they done this time? If it's got anything to do with _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes…!"_

"Why don't you show Harry where he's sleeping, Ron?" Hermione cut in, seeing exactly where this was going.

"He knows where he's sleeping" drawled Ron, "In my room, he slept there last-"

"We can all go" Hermione cut in again looking pointedly at the ginger.

"Oh, _oh"_ Ron cottoned on, "Right"

"We'll come too!" Jumped in George, eager to be away from his irate mother.

_"You stay right there!"_ Snarled Mrs Weasley. Edging around the snarling woman, Hermione, Ginny and Charlotte joined Harry and Ron on the quick retreat up the rickety stairs to higher levels of the topsy-turvy house.

"What are _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?"_ Harry inquired as the group climbed the stairs. Both Ron and Ginny laughed whilst Hermione and Charlotte stayed quiet. "Mum found this stack of order forms when she was cleaning Fred and George's room" Quietly started Ron, "Great long lists for stuff they've invented. Joke stuff y'know, fakes wands and treats, loads of other stuff too. It was brilliant, I never knew they'd been inventing all that…"

"We've been hearing explosions outta their room for ages, but we never thought there were making things" Added Ginny "We just thought the liked the noise"

"Only most of the stuff—well, all of it, really— was a bit dangerous and y'know, they were planning to sell it at Hogwarts to make some money, and Mum went mental at them. Told 'em they weren't allow to make nay more of it and burnt all the order forms…"

"She's furious at them anyway; they didn't get as many O.W.L.s as she expected. And then there was this big tow because Mum wants them to go to the Ministry of Magic like Dad, and they told her all they want to do is open a joke shop"

"Well, all things considered, it's not really the worst sorta job there is, y'know?" Charlotte piped up, skipping up the sides of the staircase so she could overtake the front pair. Walking backwards, she continued to talk, "Could've said they wanted be dung farmers or dragon bait. Dragons! Ha!" She grinned excitedly waving her hands around as she talked, though still expertly walked backwards up the stairs.

"I thought you said you wanted to work at _Honeydukes"_ Hermione replied from the back, ignoring Harry's confused expression at the sudden appearance of the new ginger.

"Oh! That reminds me!" Charlotte clicked her fingers as a thought came to mind, "The twins pinched some of my stash! Nice ta meet'cha Potter!" Charlotte called over her shoulder as she spun on her heel, dashing up the stairs towards the twins' room where she would no doubt put her badger skills to work looking for her missing stash.

"Uh…whose that?" Harry asked the burning question.

"Hm? Oh that's Charlotte Anderson, she's a Hufflepuff in Fred & George's year" Replied Hermione as the remaining quartet moved on.

"But she's great mates with Hermione" Ginny added as Harry turned to glance over his shoulder at the brunette behind him, "She's going to the Cup too y'know; got 'er own ticket though"

"What? Since when?" Harry asked.

"What? Did you really think I didn't have friends outside of you two?" Hermione quirked an eyebrow in question as she moved on ahead of them. "C'me on Harry, have a little faith"

Just as Harry was about to reply, Percy popped out from behind a door on the second story landing complaining about all the noise they were creating and politely told them to shut up before retreating back inside. When they finally reached Ron's room, a large bellow echoed throughout the house, no doubt Mrs Weasley had just been told the entire story about the twins latest antics.

_I wouldn't want to be them._ Hermione winced as the quartet trudged inside, slamming the door shut behind them. As per usual, Ron's room was wallpapered in posters of his favourite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons; the figures swooped and twirled waving from their paper canvas mounted on the sloping ceiling.

On the windowsill a fish tank that had previously held frog spawn now held a rather large frog. Ron's rat, Scabbers was long gone by now and good riddance to that. Instead, a hyper grey owl buzzed around its cage, excitedly hopping up and down, twittering madly.

"Shut _up,_ Pig" Ron scolded, edging his way between the aisle created by the extra beds stuffed into the room. "Fred & George are in here with us, 'cos Bill & Charlie are in their room" He told Harry, "Percy gets to keep his room all to himself because he's _got to work"_

"Er…why're you calling that owl Pig?" Harry asked.

"Because he's stupid" Ginny intercepted, "His proper name is _Pigwidgeon"_

"Yeah, and that's not a stupid name at all" Ron sassed, turning to Harry he answered, "Ginny named 'im. She reckons it's sweet and I tried to change it, but it's too late. He won't answer to anything else, so now he's Pig. I've gotta keep 'im up 'ere cause he annoys Errol & Hermes. He annoys me too, come to think of it…"

"…Where's Crookshanks?" Harry then turned to Hermione as he plonked himself down on one of the beds scattered around the room.

"Out in the garden chasing gnomes, he's never seen 'em before y'know, absolutely loves it" Hermione replied sitting cross-legged on the bed across from him.

Sitting across from the boys Hermione was able to fully take in the changes of the two because while she herself had had some kind of makeover, so had the boys as well. Where she had cut her hair to about shoulder-length, both boys had grown theirs out to around the same length. Currently Ron's hung around his face like a dirty mop whilst Harry's usually untameable locks had been pulled back into a tiny little ponytail that stuck out from the back of his head and framed the familiar lightning-shaped scar which spiderwebbed its way over his forehead.

Both boys had filled out a little too, Ron was still tall and lanky like his father, but Harry's small frame had grown too, with his wiry muscles hidden beneath layers of second-hand clothes and Quidditch jumpers. A quick glance over a Ginny showed that she too thought that Harry at least had matured some, if only in appearance.

"I think they've stopped arguing" Hermione stated, covering the awkward moment that had been created by Ron's unfinished question about Sirius and Ginny's curious looks flitting between the two boys. "Shall we go down and help your mum with dinner?"

"Yeah, all right" Shrugged Ron.

"Hey, what about Anderson?" Ginny asked as the group stopped halfway down the stairs.

"Oh yeah, hang on" Hermione turned to face the staircase and lifting both index & pointer fingers to her mouth and gave a sharp whistle that rang loud & clear throughout the house.

"Bloody hell! That was loud! Where'd you learn to whistle like that?" Ron complained, over exaggerating the ringing in his ears at the sudden noise.

"Bishops' Park every Saturday" Hermione grinned thinking back to the days where her father would come to support her as she played on her primary school's rugby team. _Oh, how I miss the days where tackling someone wasn't seen as an act of aggression!_

Further up the stairs two ginger heads popped out varying levels, Percy who upon spotting the group returned to his room, muttering angrily about teenagers & never-ending noise and then there was Charlotte who appeared to have her cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk with whatever sweet she had found. The girl tilted her head in question before pocketing whatever prize she had found and bounded down the stairs to join the group in their venture to the kitchen in search for dinner.

Upon arriving in the kitchen (with all evidence of previous snacks wiped away) the group found a rather bad-tempered Mrs Weasley stewing over the kitchen bench. "We're eating out in the garden" She stated when they came in, "There's just not enough room for twelve people in here. Could you take the plates outside, girls? Bill and Charlie are setting up the table. Cutlery, please, you two" She said to Harry & Ron, vigorously pointing at the pile of potatoes in the sink, which rocketed out of their skins so fast that they ricocheted off of the walls and ceiling.

"Oh for heaven's _sake…!"_ She snapped, directing her wand towards an idle dustpan which hopped to life and scooped up the wayward spuds. It wasn't long before the Weasley matriarch had dissolved into more angry mutters about the twins and Hermione used this time to escape from the kitchen and out into the garden, laden with dinner plates.

_CRASH! BANG!_

It didn't take the girls long to find the rest of the Weasley boys nor what they were really doing out in the garden. While Crookshanks was more than happy to chase the little horned potato-men around the garden; Bill and Charlie had taken it upon themselves to duel each other with the two battered tables flying high above their heads.

Both of the twins were cheering their elder brothers on, Ginny was flushed with laughter and Charlotte had her pile of plates gently floating next to her as she clapped her hands like a child. And Hermione found herself torn between amusement and anxiety as the tables smashed relentlessly into each other, each trying to knock the other from the air and the title of victor.

Suddenly, Bill's table caught Charles with a huge bang and knocked one of its legs off. There was a clatter from overhead and Percy's head poked out of a second-story window, telling them to keep it down. After dismissing their younger brother's complaints, Bill and Charles directed the tables safely onto the grass, end to end, both whole once more.

So it was by seven o'clock, both tables were groaning under the multitude of dishes of Mrs Weasley's wonderful cooking, surrounded by nine Weasleys, one Potter, one Granger and one Anderson underneath a clear deep-blue sky.

No sooner had Mrs Weasley placed the last dish on the tables had everyone pounced on the food like hungry vultures. Spooning boiled potatoes onto her plate, Hermione smiled at Charlotte across from her, who moaned in delight at the mouthful of food she had eaten. _Well, she's not wrong, Mrs Weasley's cooking is divine_. All around her, conversations flittered in and out of her ears as she ate.

At the far end of the table, Percy was bragging to his father about the competency of a Mr Crouch over that of a Mr Ludo Bagman (ironically the very same man who gave them the tickets) and a Bertha Jorkins who had returned to work after a lengthy holiday. Before moving onto try and press his family into guessing what the 'top secret' event for the year was.

"He's been trying to get us to ask what that event is ever since he started work. Probably an exhibition of thick-bottomed cauldrons" Ron muttered to his friends as he rolled his eyes at the poor attempt.

In the middle of the table, Mrs Weasley appeared to be chewing Bill out about how he was dressed; going on about how unprofessional the fang earring and long hair really was. Not that Bill seemed to care either way. _It is pretty cool though_, Hermione thought, her eyes forever dragging back to the tooth in his ear and there was just something about a man in a ponytail. Finally Fred, George, Charles and Harry were animatedly talking about how the Quidditch World Cup had gone so far.

* * *

When the sky had begun to darken, Mr Weasley had lit up the garden with several candles, some floating others not, as they each ate their own bowl of homemade strawberry ice-cream. When all had finally stuffed themselves full, moths were fluttering around the candle flames and Hermione felt very much like she wouldn't be able to make it up the stairs she was so full.

Next to her, Ron spared a conspiratorial glance up the table where the others were talking lazily in quiet clumps, before he asked. "So…have you heard from Sirius lately?"

"Yeah" Harry softly replied as Hermione leant in, "Twice. He sounds okay, I wrote to him yesterday. He might write back while I'm here"

"Look at the time!" Mrs Weasley suddenly piped up, "You really should be in bed, the whole lot of you! You'll be up at the crack of dawn to get to the Cup"

Hermione all but rolled out of her chair and followed the girls inside and up the stairs to Ginny's room where she was planning to wear her clothes for tomorrow to bed so she could sleep in a little while longer. Behind them, the boys' voices drifted in from the garden soon followed by laughter as Percy stomped passed them and up the stairs, his peaceful evening now shattered by his brothers' endless teasings.


	4. The Portkey

The following morning at the ass-crack of dawn, Hermione along with Charlotte and Ginny were harshly awoken from their heavy slumbers by Mrs Weasley slinging open the blinds and shaking each girl awake.

"Rise and shine girls, it's time to go" Mrs Weasley declared. Rubbing her tired eyes, Hermione blearily pushed herself up into a sitting position, letting the duvet fall to her waist to reveal the day's clothes she had purposefully worn to bed the night before. Instead of the floral print that she had begun to wear more of these days, Hermione had opted for a large green & white striped Muggle rugby shirt which was tucked in a pair of worn mum jeans.

The jeans were cinched at the waist with an old leather belt and the wide-cut pant legs had been rolled up several times so that they rested just below her knees. Mismatched woollen Gryffindor socks swung out from the bed's warmth and onto the cold wooden floor where they landed next to a pair of sturdy hiking reluctantly, she had chosen to wear the rather sturdy hiking boots, which although were going to help with the journey there (and did in fact, suit the rest of the outfit), she still would've preferred going barefoot as she had for most of the summer. An oversized denim jacket and her usual moon crescent earrings completed the whole ensemble.

Across from her Ginny groaned and rolled over, tucking her legs in close as she tried to contain what little warmth she could after Mrs Weasley had unceremoniously yanked her blanket away. To her left, Charlotte too was sitting upright, but seemed to have fallen back asleep with her head tipped back against the headboard."Come on! Up! Up! You're leaving soon!" Mrs Weasley called when little to no movement was seen from the tired girls. "Fine! Miss the Cup for all I care!" Chucking a pillow aside, the Weasley Matriarch soon disappeared out the door in pursuit of the boys who, no doubt would be receiving the same treatment.

Too tired to talk, Ginny eventually hauled herself from the bed and merely gave a series of grunts before disappearing in the direction of the bathroom with a set of clothes in hand as she went to take a shower. Which was fine for Charlotte and Hermione as the two witches tiredly drew themselves from their beds and met each other in the middle of the room.

Absentmindedly, Hermione noted that Charlotte had opted to wear a red flannel shirt beneath a pair of old denim overalls that were splattered here and there in several splotches of paint. She too, had gone for sturdy footwear and Muggle mufti to show what team she would be supporting at the Cup. Wordlessly clasping each others hands, the two witches began their morning prayers. Typically the morning prayers were completed together with other coven members but they could still be done in solitary, though Lila often said that there was power in numbers; even for something as simple as morning prayers.

_"At the gate of dawn I stand,_

_Hecate, on either hand,_

_Guard me with your magic power,_

_Guide me through the crossroads hour_

_From the beauty of the night_

_To the glory of light"_

Warmth flooded the two witches, embracing and holding them tight like a mother's love. Magic pulsed between the two, flowing from one witch to the other as they prayed. One that always served to wake them up much better than a shower or cold bucket of water would ever do.

Hermione watched in awe, forever fascinated at the way Charlotte's markings retreated back across her face like they were being painted in reverse. Unravelling from her eyes, back over cheeks and down to the centre of her dormant tattoo where it usually lay in the valley between her breasts. In turn she knew that her own markings would be retreating back across her face, over her shoulders and down her back to where her dormant tattoo lay.

No sooner had the two ended their morning prayers and their markings had returned to their dormant status' once more, did Ginny return with Mrs Weasley in tow who stated that the boys were already downstairs and waiting for them.

"Why do we have to be up so early?" Ginny complained, rubbing her eyes as the trio of girls joined the others downstairs.

"We've got a bit of a walk" Replied Mr Weasley as Charlotte reached around Ginny to retrieve some food from the breakfast table. Hermione gratefully took the two plums handed to her as the badger took a couple of pieces of toast smothered in jam for herself.

"Walk?" Asked Harry, "What, are we walking to the World Cup?"

"No, no that's miles away" Mr Weasley smiled, "We only need to walk a short way. It's just that it's very difficult for a large number of wizards to congregate without attracting Muggle attention and we need to be careful about how we travel at the best of times…"

Whilst Mr Weasley had been answering Harry's questions and Mrs Weasley had inevitably caught the twins with more of their products hidden away on their person; Hermione had moved towards the kitchen where she was filling a thermos with tea to take with her._ If I have to be up this early, then by Hecate, I better have my tea!_ She thought, going through the motions.

Unsurprisingly, Mrs Weasley's outburst at her find of the contraband was much louder than the kettle, easily outdoing the whistling appliance when it had finished boiling. Once the boiling water had been poured into the thermos filled with passionfruit flowers & lavender petals and given a good shake, Hermione seamlessly rejoined the group as they prepared to walk out the door.

"Well, have a lovely time" Farewelled Mrs Weasley, "And behave yourselves. I'll send Bill, Charlie and Percy along around midday" The group then marched themselves out the door and out across the dark yard after Fred and George who had escaped only moments earlier.

"So how does everyone get there without all the Muggles noticing?" Harry pestered as they walked through the chilly landscape; the green-tinged horizon to the right showing the only signs of the coming morning.

"It's been a massive organisational problem" Sighed Mr Weasley, "The trouble is, about a hundred wizards turn up at the World Cup, and of course we just haven't got a magical site big enough to accommodate them all…"

"Is that tea I smell?" Charlotte came up next to Hermione, eagerly eyeing the thermos clutched in the brunette's hand.

"Passionfruit & lavender" Hermione smiled as she warmed her hands on the sides of the metallic thermos.

"Ooh! Can I?" Charlotte reached forward.

"What! No! This is mine! Get your own!" Hermione snatched the hot little item away from her friends grabby hands.

"What? C'me on Minnie! Just a little sip! Please!"

"No! It's mine!"

"Min~nie!"

"Char~lie!"

"Witch!"

"Witch with tea!" Hermione grinned running ahead a little, racing over the hill crest with the thermos clutched close to her chest and Charlotte close on her heels.

"…Just need the Portkey" Said Mr Weasley placing his glasses on, "It won't be big…c'me on" For a couple of minutes, the group searched for the object in question only to stop at the sudden shout that broke the still air.

"Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we've got it!" Glancing over at the source of the voice, there stood two tall figures were silhouetted against the morning sky on the other side of the hilltop.

"Amos!" Mr Weasley heartily greeted, striding over to the older man who had shouted. Amos was a ruddy-faced wizard hidden behind a scrubby brown beard, and who was holding a moldly-looking boot in one hand. "This is Amos Diggory, everyone. He works for the Department for the Regulation & Control of Magical Creatures and I think you know his son, Cedric?"

Cedric Diggory was an extremely handsome boy of around seventeen, not to mention Hufflepuff's Captain and Seeker at Hogwarts. "Hi" Cedric greeted, his eyes roving over all the new faces and alighted in recognition at a few faces such as Harry's, the twins' and Charlotte's.

"Long walk, Arthur?" Amos inquired.

"Not too bad" Mr Weasley said, "We live just on the other side of the village there. You?"

"Had to get up at two, didn't we Ced? I tell you, I'll be glad when he's got his Apparition test. Still…not complaining…"

"Apparition test? Isn't that what you're doing this year, Charlie?" Hermione quietly asked the girl next to her.

"Yeah, but that's not 'til later in the year" Charlotte replied, "Or at least that's what I've heard" Like Hermione, Charlotte's birthday fell in the bracket just after the application cut off date, meaning that even though she was in sixth year this year, she would actually be turning seventeen ahead of her peers.

"But how would that work? I thought you couldn't apparate on school grounds"

"I think they void the wards in a certain area so we can learn"

"Oh, that makes sense, I guess. But where would be big enough?"

"Great Hall, maybe?"

"The Forest?"

"The Dungeons?"

"Myrtle's bathroom?"

"The Library?"

"The Chambers?"

"Must nearly be time" Mr Weasley mused, cutting through all conversations as he pulled out his pocket watch again, "Do you know whether we're waiting for any more, Amos?"

"No, the Lovegoods have been there for a week already and the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets" Said Mr Diggory, "There aren't any more of us in the area, are there?"

"Not that I know of…Yes, it's a minute off…We'd better get ready"

With great difficulty (owing to their bulky bags) the ten of them crowded around the old boot in Amos' hands; there they all stood in a tight circle with at least one finger touching the manky old thing. Nobody spoke as a chill breeze wafted over the hilltop and it occurred to Hermione how odd they must all look. _Ten people—two of them grown men, clutching this mangy old boot in the semidarkness, just waiting…_

"Three…" Mr Weasley started the count down, one eye still locked on his watch, "Two…one…" The motion was sudden, with a hook just beneath Hermione's navel she was suddenly jerked forward. Ugh! This isn't better than the last time! Her feet were swept from the ground with Charlotte and Harry on either side of her, shoulders banging into each other they sped forward in a howl of wind and swirling colours.


	5. Misty Moors

The next time Hermione's feet met solid ground, she fell to the ground in a boneless heap with her bag dragging her downwards. From the groans on either side of her, Hermione was sure that the others were in a similar position; with exceptions being Mr Weasley, Amos and Cedric Diggory.

"Seven past five from Stoatshead hill" Intoned a voice from the left of the misty moor in which they had landed. Following the sound of the voice as she got up, Hermione found herself looking upon a pair of tired and grumpy-looking wizards; one of whom was holding a large golden watch whilst the other held a thick roll of parchment and feathered quill. Both wizards were dressed in Muggle clothes, though fashion didn't seem to factor into the equation for the man with the watch had opted for a tweed suit paired with thigh-high gumboots and in turn, his colleague wore a tartan kilt and woollen poncho.

"Mornin' Basil" Greeted Mr Weasley, picking up the boot and handed it to the kilted wizard who threw it into a large box of Portkeys beside him. From over Harry's shoulder, Hermione was able to spot random little objects such as an old Muggle newspaper, a purple and green hole-ridden sock and various mangled empty beer cans.

"ello there, Arthur" Basil replied wearily, "Not on duty, eh? It's alright for some…we've been 'ere all night…" He sighed, running a hand down his face and threw his hair, "You'd better get outta the way, we've got a big party coming in from the Black Forest at five-fifteen. 'ang on, I'll find your campsite"

While the oddly dressed wizard searched for their campsite on the list in front of him, Hermione and the others were herded aside in favour of the group that was supposed to be arriving next. "…Weasley…About a quarter of a mile's walk over there, first field you come to. Site manager's called Mr Roberts Diggory, second field and as for Mr Payne" Drawled Basil after finally finding there right name.

"Thanks, Basil" Said Mr Weasley before beckoning the group to follow him across the deserted misty moor. After about twenty minutes of mindless wandering, a small stone cottage next to a farm gate emerged into view. Beyond the gate, ghostly figures and tent-like shapes danced in the mist; rising up the gentle slope of the large field and toward a dark wood on the horizon.

With a farewell to the Diggorys and Charlotte (who was going to meet up with the Lovegoods and Lila at a different campsite) at the cottage door, the rest of them moved inwards to be greeted by Mr Roberts, clearly the only real Muggle within several acres. It was clear from his posture and attitude that Mr Roberts suspected something was up, and his comments about all the odd campers that had arrived over the last couple of weeks seemed to set Mr Weasley on edge.

Thankfully they were saved from pulling any odd excuse out of their ass as a new wizard appeared and charmed the Muggle with the memory charm. The new wizard was dressed in baggy tweeds pants with a matching sweater vest and the blue stubble on his chin matched the purple bags under his eyes. "…Been havin' a lot of trouble wit' 'im; needs a memory charm ten times a day to keep 'im happy. And Ludo Bagman's not helping; trottin' around talkin' 'bout bludger and quaffles at the top of his voice, not a worry 'bout the anti-Muggle security. Blimey, I'll be glad when this is over, see ya later, Arthur" The wizard grumbled before he diasapparated with a crack.

"I thought Mr Bagman was Head of Magical Games & Sports?" Ginny asked surprised, Shouldn't he know better?"

"He should" Agreed Mr Weasley, leading them through the gates to their campsite, "…But Ludo's always been a bit…well, lax about security. You couldn't wish for a more enthusiastic head of the sports department though. He played Quidditch for England, y'know and he was the best beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had"

As they trudged through the long rows of tents amongst the misty field, Hermione let her gaze wander up and down the aisles as they passed. Most of them appeared almost ordinarily Muggle, clearly an attempt by the owners to fit in and avoid any suspicions; though this was seemed to be a little waylaid by the addition of chimneys, bell-pulls or weather vanes that easily pointed to the tents being magical. _I'm hardly surprised that Mr Roberts is getting suspicious, look at all those extensions!_ Hermione mused as they passed by yet another series of tents; one with three floors and several turrets, another held a front garden complete with bird bath, sun dial and fountain.

"Always the same" Smiled Mr Weasley, "We can't resist showing off when we get together…Ah, here we are, look, this is us" At the top of the field, near the very edge of the wood sat an empty space marked by a small wooden sign hammered into the ground. The messy writing merely read: _Weezly._

"Couldn't have a better spot!" Cheered Mr Weasley, "The field is just on the other side of the wood there, were as close as could be" He hoisted his bag from his shoulders and let it thump onto the ground at his feet, "Right" He continued excitedly, "No magic allowed, strictly speaking, not when were out in these numbers on Muggle land. Which means we'll be putting the tents up by hand! Shouldn't be too difficult…Muggles do it all the time…Here, Harry, where do you reckon we should start?"

From the look on Harry's face it was clear that he had no more of an idea on how to set up the tent than the purebloods next to him. Not that that seemed to stop them, as the boys set about setting up the tents in the same way they attacked any other problem, by facing it head on with absolutely no clue what they were doing. _There's a few Wizard's swears to remember._ Hermione mused as Mr Weasley whacked one of fingers yet again. Despite Mr Weasley's involvement in the task, he was more of a hindrance than anything because he got thoroughly overexcited when it came to using the mallet.

"Hey! I think I got it!" Ron cheered from inside one of the tents where he was trying to prop up one of the stakes.

"Well, that's great, Ron, if we have you stand there the entire weekend!" Snarked George as he tried to jam two poles together. It barely took a brush of Fred's elbow for the entire fly of the tent to collapse on top of the young teen, which in turn caused Ron to swing around wildly, trying to remove the cloth from his head.

Hermione felt the corner of her lips lift upwards in a barely concealed grin as Harry and the Weasley siblings laughed joyfully at Ron's expense. _To be fair, he does look a bit like a cat with his head in a shoebox!_ At her feet sat the upturned sheet of instructions which the boys had conveniently discarded upon opening the bag and declared that they could get the tents up without any help from the girls.

With a put upon sigh, Hermione let her own bag fall to the ground at her feet and after sharing a conspiratorial look with Ginny stepped forth rolling her sleeves up. "Alright Ron, get outta there, we'll show you boys how it's done" Hermione jokingly chastised.

"Never send a boy to do a woman's job" Ginny laughed, joining Hermione at her side as the two easily set about putting up the two tents in half the time it took for the boys to faff about.

"All done" Hermione and Ginny stood back, hands on hips and arms crossed respectively as they looked happily at their handiwork.

"How…did you do that?" Ron asked eyeing the two girls and the free-standing tents behind them.

"We read the instructions" Hermione deadpanned.

"Oh" Ron, at least, had the decency to look sheepish.

At first glance, the tents appeared to be normal, ordinary Muggle tents; but the trouble was that once Bill, Charles and Percy arrived would they really all fit? Harry seemed to have spotted the same problem when the two shared a quizzical look as Mr Weasley dropped to his hands and knees and crawled inside the first tent. "We'll be a bit cramped" He called over his shoulder, "But I think we'll all just squeeze in"

Bending down, Hermione ducked through the tent flap of the second and felt her face go slack in awe. Inside, the tent took on the appearance of a three-room flat complete with bathroom, kitchen and completely furnished. Crocheted blankets covered the mismatched chairs and a portable stove/fireplace sat in the centre of the room; there were numerous bunks piled off to one side and a small kitchenette in the other. Hermione and Ginny had been given the second smaller tent to themselves, and though the interior was much smaller than the first, it was still large enough to house a small family.

After claiming their own bunks, the two girls went next door to see the boys' tent."Well, it's not for long" Said Mr Weasley swabbing his bald patch with a spotted handkerchief and peered in at the four bunk beds that stood in the bedroom off to the side, "I borrowed this from Perkins at the office; doesn't camp much anymore, poor fellow, he's got lumbago" He peered inside the dusty kettle, "We'll need water…"

"There's a tap marked on the map the Muggle gave us" Said Ron reading off of the map they had been given, "It's on the other side of the field.

"Well, why don't you, Harry and Hermione go and get us some water then? And the rest of us will get wood for a fire"

"But we've got an oven, why can't we just —"

"Ron, anti-Muggle security! When real Muggles camp, they cook on fire outdoors, I've seen them at it!"

With kettle and saucepans in hand Hermione, Harry and Ron set off across the field to find the water tap. The sun had risen by now and mist had begun to lift, letting them see the city of tents that stretched on as far as the eye could see, each containing witches and wizards from every corner of the world. From the serious African wizards garbed in long white robes surrounding a purple bonfire where a rabbit was spit roasting to a group of middle-aged American witches happily gossiping beneath the banner of the Salem witches.

By now their fellow campers were starting to wake, the first to stir being the families with young children. Here and there the magical community were emerging form their tents and starting to cook breakfast; some with furtive looks thrown around them conjured fire from their wands whilst others struck matches with dubious looks on their faces as if they couldn't believe that it would work.

"Er—is it my eyes, or has everything just gone green?" Asked Ron, blinking repeatedly. Hermione felt the need to rub her eyes at all the green bombarding her all at once, _It's like the Rugby World Cup!_ Hermione thought as her gaze drifted from the thick growth of shamrocks to the Irish banners proudly displayed above the tents. Then from behind the trio, a familiar voice called a greeting, "Harry! Ron! Hermione!" Seamus Finnigan called from in front of his own shamrock-infested tent; next to him sat his best mate, Dean Thomas. Both Gryffindors were joined by a sandy-haired woman, clearly Seamus' mother and all three of them had some kind of green face paint printed on their cheeks.

"Like the decorations?" Seamus grinned, "Ministry's not too happy"

"Ah, why shouldn't we show our colours?" Mrs Finnigan argued, "You should see what the Bulgarians have got danglin' over their tents…You'll be supporting Ireland, of course?" She eyed the trio beadily. When the trio assured her that they were indeed supporting Ireland, they set off again, though no sooner were they out of earshot did Ron start complaining.

"Like we'd say anything else surrounded by that lot" Ron rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"I wonder what the Bulgarians have got dangling over their tents?" Hermione mused aloud.

"Let's go and have a look" Suggested Harry, pointing to a large patch of tents where the Bulgarian flag was fluttering in the breeze.

This time where the patch of Irish tents was nothing but green and gold, the Bulgarian patch of tents appeared to be a smattering of red, white and green—the colours of their flag. Another difference between the two sides were shown in how each of the tents were decorated; instead of plantlike wallpapering the tent walls, they each held a poster of the exact same Quidditch player.

Surly and heavy black eyebrows stared back at Hermione no matter where she looked; of course the pictures were moving, but all the player did was blink and scowl.

"…Krum" Ron whispered in awe.

"What?" Hermione asked turning him.

"Krum! Viktor Krum!, the Bulgarian seeker!"

"He looks really grumpy"

_"Really grumpy?"_ Ron's eyes rolled to the heavens, "Who cares what he looks like? He's unbelievable! He's really young too, only just eighteen or something. He's a genius, you wait until tonight, you'll see!"

When the trio finally arrived at the only water tap at the campsite, there was already a small queue forming. Hermione tried to fight the grin that was climbing on her face as the two oddly-dressed wizards in front of them got caught up in a rather loud and heated argument. The elderly wizard was dressed in long floral nightgown whilst the younger wizard held up a pair of pinstripe trousers, trying his hardest to get the elder wizard to put them on.

"Just put them on Archie, there's a good chap. You can't walk around like that, the Muggle at the gate's already suspicious—"

"I bought this in a Muggle shop!" Archie stubbornly defended, "Muggles wear them"

"Muggle _women_ wear them, Archie, not men, they wear _these"_

"I'm _not_ putting them on. Besides, I like a healthy breeze 'round my privates thank you very much!"

That proved to be too much for Hermione who quickly spun around and buried her face into Harry's shoulder where she was able to let her mirth go without alerting the wizards' in front, though her shoulders did shake now and then. Harry was quick to sling both arm and kettle around the shaking brunette as he too tried his best to keep the laughter from being heard, though he had no troubles about letting the grin split his face.

* * *

Weighed down by the multitude of waterlogged items, the trio slowly made their way back through the campsite to their tents. Here and there, more familiar faces were spotted such as other Hogwarts students and their families. In one instance Harry had been dragged over by his old Quidditch captain, Oliver Wood, to meet his parents, next there was Ernie Mcmillian, a Hufflepuff in their year who called a greeting and Cho Chang, the pretty seeker for Ravenclaw. In the next instance, Hermione had been greeted by Lila Garcia, Luna Lovegood, Victoria Baker and Charlotte (all of whom bar Luna were at least a year or two older), easily falling into endless gossip in everything from schoolwork to her new makeover to the latest Muggle fashion trends and movies. Eventually Ron had pulled her away from the nattering girls with his whined complaints; but not without promising to catch up with the girls later.

"You've been ages!" Complained George when the trio returned.

"Met a few people" Replied Ron, setting down his waterlogged containers, "You've not got the fire started yet?"

"Dad's having fun with the matches" Said Fred. looking over to where his father was crouched at the stove surrounded by splintered matches littering the ground at his feet, though he looked to be having the time of his life.

"Oops!" Mr Weasley cried dropping the lit match in surprise. Taking pity on the man, Hermione moved forward to help him.

"C'mere here, Mr Weasley" Hermione gently took the matchbox from the elder ginger and quickly collected the splintered matches from the fire before throwing them into the fireplace with the rest of the kindling before simply reaching inside the fireplace and clicking her fingers next to the wood. A spark of wandless magic sprang from her fingers, quickly alighting the kindling and ate away at the wood inside.

Though the fire was finally lit, they still had to wait an hour before it was hot enough to cook anything, but in the meantime the heatwaves gently wafted around the tent warming everything in its path. Despite the wait, there seemed to be a rather important bit of through-fare in the field nearby and having been pitched so close by they were able to watch as numerous Ministry witches and wizards hurried by, cordially greeting Mr Weasley as they went. All the while, Mr Weasley kept up a running commentary; mainly for Hermione and Harry's benefits seeing as his own children already knew too much to be interested in Ministry affairs.

"That was Cuthbert Mockridge, Head of the Goblin Liaison Office…Here comes Gilbert Wimple, he's with the Committee on Experimental Charms—he's had those horns for a while now…Arnold Peasgood, he's an Obliviator—a member of the Accidental Magical Reversal Squad, y'know…and that's Bode & Croaker, they're Unspeakables"

"They're what?" Hermione questioned, soaking up all the information like a sponge.

"From the Department of Mysteris, top secret, no idea what they get up to…"

At last the fire was ready and lunch had just started to cook when Bill, Charles and Percy came strolling out of the woods towards them. Though, a few of them couldn't help but roll their eyes at Percy's loud & arrogant exclamation when he came in range.

Hermione was trying to ward Ron off of her plate when Mr Weasley jumped to his feet, exclaiming loudly as he strode forth to meet the grinning man before them. "Ah! The man of the moment, Ludo Bagman!" After eventually shoving some of her eggs onto Ron's plate, Hermione glanced up to see the man Mr Weasley had so gaily greeted. He looks like a roll of hazard tape. Hermione noted dumbly. Ludo Bagman had completely disregarded the need for anti-Muggle security in favour of wearing an old set of long Quidditch robes that were adorned in thick horizontal stripes of bright yellow & black and a large picture of a wasp was splashed across his chest.

_Oh, that's right Mr Weasley mentioned he played for England._ _Well, that's a mid-life crisis if I ever saw one_. Hermione winced at how his robes were stretched tightly across his large potbelly, the seams barely holding together by the threads and the squashed nose that lay at a such an odd angle, with the poorly hidden scars clearly indicating some sort of old sporting injury. Probably thought it made him look manly. Hermione snorted into her eggs. His only saving features were his round blue eyes, rosy complexion and short blonde hair which gave him an overgrown schoolboy.

"Ahoy there!" Bagman called happily, walking over as with a spring in his step and pure excitement painted across his face. "Arthur, old man" He huffed, out of breath, "What a day, eh? What a day! Could we have asked for more perfect weather!"

At this point Hermione's attention was drawn from Bagman to the group of haggard-looking Ministry wizards behind him as they rushed passed on the hunt for the source of the magical bonfire tickling the sky. "Hey!" Hermione protested as Ron tried to pick off of her plate once more, "Eat your own eggs!"  
"I did!" Ron defended showing her the empty plate he had no doubt licked clean.  
"Oh for Merlin's sake!" She huffed shoving her plate into his hands before getting up and collecting the other dishes on her way to the kitchen.

* * *

Excitement and anticipation was thick in the air as the afternoon wore on; by dusk the still summer air itself seemed to quiver with anticipation and as darkness set in, the last traces of pretence shattered. Salesmen were apparating every few meters carrying trays of their wares and pushing full carts around.

There Wizarding souvenirs like the blooming rosettes—green for Ireland and red for Bulgaria—which squealed the names of the players, then there were green leprechaun hats that were adorned in dancing shamrocks, Bulgarian scarves decorated with lions that literally roared, flags from both countries that sang their national anthems and collectable figurines of famous players and mascots which strolled across the palm of your hand, preening themselves.

Then there were the more Muggle-looking souvenirs like the replicas of the players shirts with their name and number on the back or the signed posters (the pictures still moved of course), to various drink bottles and hats bearing the logos of either team and soft toys of the teams' mascots.

"Ooh!…Look at that!" Hermione cooed browsing through several carts of souvenirs as Ron and Harry purchased their own. In the end Hermione came out with a Bulgarian scarf (intending to reuse it for House activities later on), a programme and a dancing shamrock hat. In turn, Ron had come away with a large green rosette, a small figurine of Viktor Krum and a dancing shamrock hat as well. Harry ended up spending his share on three pairs of omnioculars; pairs of brass binoculars covered in odd knobs and dials that let you replay action, slow everything down and flash through a play-by-play breakdown.

With wallets considerably light, the trio returned to the tents where Bill, Charles and Ginny all sported green rosettes, Mr Weasley was carrying an Irish flag and Fred & George had souvenirs as they had gambled away their share.

Suddenly a deep booming gong sounded across the field, piercing through the woods and at the call, green and red lanterns lit up the trees, lighting the path to the field. "It's time!" Mr Weasley looked just as excited as the rest of them,"Let's go!"


	6. The Quidditch World Cup

Clutching onto their purchases, they all followed Mr Weasley along the lantern-lit woodland path. The sounds of thousands of people moved around them, shouts & laughter, snatches of singing floated in one ear and out the other; the feverish atmosphere was intense and contagious. Even for people like Hermione, who may not have enjoyed or even been a fan of Quidditch, but —in the same way that most Muggles watched the Rugby World Cup—still attended because they felt it was a once in a lifetime opportunity. All around her, grinning witches and wizards of all ages wore merchandise of their favourite teams, some even going so far as to paint their faces in their respective colours; there was even one wizard who had painted his entire face in the colours of the Irish flag.

Finally emerging from the woodlands, Hermione found herself bombarded with ear-deafening noise and bright lights, not to mention the colossal size of the stadium itself. Though she could only see a fraction of the immense golden walls surrounding the field, she would hazard a guess that the entirety of Hogwarts could easily fit inside and then some. "Seats a hundred thousand" Stated Mr Weasley, catching the awed looks around him, "Ministry task force of five hundred have been working on it all year"

_This only took a year to create?!_ Hermione thought incredulously, her head craning upwards as they moved onwards towards the entrance.

"Prime seats!" Chirped the Ministry witch at the entrance checking tickets, "Top Box! Straight upstairs, Arthur, and as high as you can go"

Walking inside, Hermione noticed that the carpeted stairs into the stadium were a rich purple and already sticky with miscellaneous dropped foods and beverages, reminding her of a cinema floor. The crowd clambering upward started to thin out the higher they went, until at last they reached the top of the staircase and found themselves inside a small box, set at the highest point of the stadium and overlooking the field exactly halfway between the golden goal posts. Inside, there was about twenty purple and golden encrusted chairs that proudly stood in several rows and the only other occupants besides them appeared to be a tiny little House Elf that was already seated.

Taking her seat in between Harry and Ron, Hermione stared out at the scene around her; eyes roving from the golden goal posts in front of them to the huge blackboard hung across from them that spelled out different advertisements in giant golden handwriting, to the thousands of people in the stands on the other side of the stadium. _Magic's wonderful, but this almost seems like too much_. Hermione mused as she decided to focus on the velvet-tasseled programme she had purchased earlier that day. _"A display from the team mascots will precede the match"_ Hermione read aloud as she skimmed through the programme.

"Oh that's always worth watching" Said Mr Weasley, "National teams bring creatures from their native land, y'know, to put on a bit of a show"

Over the next half an hour, the Top Box slowly filled with more and more people, most of them high-ranking and influential. _We stick out like a sore thumb._ Hermione worried, wanting nothing more than to slide down and hide in her seat as she watched yet another pureblooded Ministry worker shake hands with yet another colleague before finding their seats. In that time Mr Weasley had been endlessly greeting and shaking hands with such magical folk including Cornelius Fudge, the current Minister for Magic and the Bulgarian Minister with him.

Currently, he was trying to introduce the Bulgarian Minister to Harry, clearly trying to schmooze him. "Harry Potter, y'know" Fudge almost looked to be playing charades, _"Harry Potter…_Oh come on now, you know who he is…the boy who survived You-Know-Who…you do know who he is—" Upon spotting Harry's scar, the Bulgarian Minister let out a happy stream of Bulgarian babble that made little to no sense to anyone else. All the while, Harry was trying his best to show his obvious discomfort at being presented like a show dog to the foreign Minister.

"Knew we'd get there in the end" Said Fudge wearily, "I'm no great at languages; I need Barty Crouch for that sort of thing. Ah, I see his House Elf's saving him a seat…Good job too, these Bulgarian blighters have been trying to nab all the best places" Fudge brightened and Harry tensed at the arrival of the Malfoy clan. "Ah, here's Lucius!"

The golden trio turned quickly at the announcement where they spotted three similar snooty blondes edging along the second row to the three still-empty seats right behind Mr Weasley. _Oh great._ Hermione pouted upon recognising the three blondes as Draco Malfoy, a peer and bully, Lucius Malfoy, a suspected Death Eater and political power and the third blonde was a witch—probably Draco's mother.

"Ah, Fudge" Greeted Mr Malfoy, holding his hand out to him, "How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco?"

"How do you do? How do you do?" Fudge shook their hands, one at a time. "And allow me to introduce you to Mr Oblansk…Obalonsk…Mr…Well, he's the Bulgarian Minster of Magic and he can't understand a word I've said anyway, so nevermind. And let's see who else…you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?"

The moment was tense as the two adults locked eyes; and Hermione recalled the last time the two had stood across from each other in such a manner. They had been in Flourish and Blotts' bookshop and had fallen into a fight…it hadn't been pretty.

"Good Lord, Arthur" Lucius spoke softly, "What did you have to sell to get seat in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?" Fudge, who once again hadn't listened to a word being said from any of the others stated that,

"Lucius had just given a very generous contribution to St Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. he's here as my guest"

"How…how nice" Mr Weasley grit out through a very strained smile. Mr Malfoy's gaze then moved over to Hermione and his lip curled in disgust; an image that was mirrored by both son and mother.

Although this was only her fourth year in the Wizarding world, Hermione was well-versed in the views of Muggle and Muggleborns, who many considered to be second-class. By this point however, she had been called a Mudblood so many times that the word had kind of lost its meaning, _Thanks for that Malfoy._

Draco, not to be outdone by his father nor his rival sitting in front of him quietly shot a muttered swear their way and although it was low enough not to be heard by most, Hermione still caught it."Schlammure!" Draco muttered with a sneer. Instead of ignoring the swear as he must've intended for her, Hermione turned to Draco with a gleam in her eye, a gleam that had Harry suddenly worried.

"Du weißt, Draco, es ist sehr unhöflich, jemanden in einer anderen Sprache anzuschimpfen vor allem; wenn du denkst daß sie dich nicht verstehen können" Hermione smirked, enjoying the way Draco looked like he had been sucking on a lemon when he was called out. In turn, Mr Malfoy's sneer curdled as he watched the exchange between the two; however under the gaze of the Ministers, Mr Malfoy didn't dare say anything. Nodding a sneer in their direction, he herded his family towards their seats without another word.

When she plopped back down in her seat, Hermione could've sworn that the Bulgarian Minister had worn a smirk on his face, but dismissed it. "Slimy gits" Ron muttered watching the blondes slink away before turning back to the field.

"You know German?" Harry questioned, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Ja" Hermione smirked flipping through the programme again.

"Since when do you know German?" Ron interjected.

"Since always"

"Of _course_, you do"

"I've got family in Germany, I just don't speak it a lot at home"

"Sure! Why not?"

"I don't really see what the big surprise is, Ron"

"Nevermind"

In the next moment Bagman burst into the box, his round face gleaming with excitement, "Everyone ready?" He asked, "Minister, ready to go?"

"Ready when you are, Ludo" Fudge replied. Bagman wasted no time in whipping out his wand and placing the tip near his throat, with a whispered _"Sonorus!"_ His cheerful voice suddenly echoed out across the hundreds of thousands of screaming fans.

"Ladies and gentlemen…welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!" The crowd roar its approval, cheering and clapping as thousands of flags waved and discombobulated anthems were chanted into the racket.

Anticipation rose in the stadium as the large black board once housing the magical advertisements was wiped clean and replaced with the blank scoreboard. "And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce…the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!" Bagman's decree was swallowed up by the roar of approval coming from the right-hand side of the stands where a solid block of scarlet sat.

"I wonder what they've brought" Murmured Hermione, leaning forward to see better.

"Aah!" Mr Weasley suddenly whipped off his glasses and hurriedly polished them on his robes, "Veela!"

"What are Veel—?" Hermione began to ask but was soon stopped the hundred veela that were now gliding out onto the field and her question was answered for her. Veela, as it turned out, were very beautiful women with moon-lit skin and white-gold hair than fanned out behind them without the need for wind, they almost didn't seem human.

When the veela began to dance along to the eerie music, Hermione felt enchanted by the way they moved, their movements were fluid and smooth even as the tempo picked up and the dance began to change. Suddenly movement out of the corner of her eye pulled her away from the performance down on the field to see that Harry was up out of his seat and appeared to be trying to mount the boundary wall of the Top Box. "Harry, _what_ are you doing?" Hermione demanded just as the music cut off much to the disapproval of every male in the audience. Harry rapidly blinked as if waking up from a strange dream, though he was standing up and one of his legs had come to rest on the wall of the box. On her other side, Ron was frozen in a pose that made him look as though he was about to dive head first from a springboard.

_"Honestly!"_ Hermione tutted gripping tight to the shirt tails of either boy and harshly yanked them back into their seats.

"…And now" Bagman roared once more, "Kindly put your wands in the air…for the Irish National Team Mascots!" Seemingly out of nowhere, a great green and golden comet came zooming into the stadium where it did one circuit then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling towards the goals posts. Next, a rainbow appeared connecting the two comets which the crowd oohed and aahed at. When the rainbow had faded and the two comets had reunited, they formed a great big shimmering shamrock which rose high upwards in the sky, soaring far over the stands.

"Excellent!" Yelled Ron as the shamrock soared and danced over them, showering them in heavy gold coins; although upon closer inspection Hermione saw that the dancing shamrock in the sky actually consisted of tiny little bearded men with red vests and minute gold or green lamps.

"Leprechauns!" Cried Mr Weasley over the roar of applause of the crowd as they squabbled over the golden coins at their feet.

"…And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome…the Bulgarian National Quidditch team!" One by one, seven scarlet-clad figures zoomed into view, moving so fast they were nothing more than blurs in the sky. "…I give you…Dimitrov! Ivanova! Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand…Krum!"

"That's him! That's him!" Ron screeched into her ear as he pulled up his Omnioculars to follow the Bulgarian seeker.

"And now, please greet…the Irish National Quidditch team!" Bagman continued, this time seven green blurs shot onto the field. "…Presenting…Conolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigely! Aaaaand…Lynch! And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch…Hassan Mostafa!"

Amongst the green and scarlet-clad wizards emerged a small and rather skinny wizard whose shiny bald head was void of any hair save for the large bushy moustache on his face. A silver whistle could be seen peeking out from beneath the moustache and he carried out a large wooden crate full of the Quidditch balls and his own broomstick.

Hermione grinned, the anticipation around her was intoxicating and garbed in her roaring Bulgarian scarf and dancing Irish hat with Omnioculars in hand, Hermione was ready for the final of the World Cup to begin. With one kick to the crate (now seated firmly on the ground), the scarlet Quaffle, the two leather-bound black bludgers and shiny golden snitch shot into the air. The sharp shrill of the whistle pierced the air and then the players were off, the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup had begun!


	7. Fear at the Cup

With Ireland winning the World Cup by a landslide, raucous singing erupted into the night air as the Irish supporters sung their praises joyfully. Hermione stuck close to Harry & Ron as the group followed the rest of the audience as it slowly trickled out of the stadium and into the fields below.

Once back at their tents, nobody felt quite like retiring to bed just yet and given the rambunctious party outside, Mr Weasley eventually agreed to let them enjoy one cup of cocoa each before they went to bed. Soon enough, they were all caught up in arguing enjoyably over the match and the little nuances that they would've done.

Hermione couldn't stop grinning at how Ron began to recite sonnets about Krum and how he should've left it longer to catch the snitch; in turn Harry was lamenting on how the talented Bulgarian seeker did so many interesting moves & how he couldn't wait to try them out.

It was only once Ginny had fallen asleep with her head falling onto Hermione's shoulder and her cup of cocoa spilt all over the floor, that Mr Weasley called a halt to their discussions and called for everyone to head to bed.

Calling a goodnight to the boys, Hermione led a tired and stumbling Ginny into their tent next door, where the two then quietly changed into their pyjamas and readied for bed. No sooner had Ginny's head hit the pillow had she fallen asleep with limbs sprawled akimbo, however in turn, Hermione had decided to read for a little bit.

With her boots strewn at the foot of the chair, Hermione tucked her feet up underneath her, only shifting slightly as she got comfy with the book she had brought. The hem of the large striped Muggle rugby shirt she had worn that day hung low across her thighs, practically hiding the pasty floral pyjama shorts that she had swapped her jeans for as she settled in one of the big comfy chairs occupying the living room.

A single lantern hovered above her head, offering a small spotlight for which to read by. It was easy to drift off into her book, even with the loud party still echoing out across the moors from the Irish end of the field. The book in question was an old hardback leather-bound thing about the size of a small journal and though there was no author, the cover was still engraved with the title: _Sabrina Morningstar: The Witch, The Queen, The Legend._

Sophie Martins, a pretty fifth year Ravenclaw and fellow coven member, had recommended the book to Hermione at the beginning of the year when she had inquired more about covens and their origins. As it was, the book had been well-read several times in the following months as evident by the many creases in the spine and the tattered Marks & Spencer's receipt inside acting as a bookmark. But nevertheless, Hermione still dutifully cracked open the book (though she probably knew it back-to-front by now) and began to whittle away the night until drowsiness pulled at her lids, drawing her down into sleep.

* * *

It felt like Hermione had just been reading about the trials and tribulations of Sabrina Morningstar when she was shaken awake by a frantic Mr Weasley. "Huh?" Hermione muttered as she awoke; dimly she was aware that something was terribly, terribly wrong. The noises in the campsite had changed from the cheerful songs of praise to terrified screams and the sound of people running like rats on a sinking ship.

"No time, Hermione…just grab a jacket and get outside—quickly!" Mr Weasley ordered as he all but hauled his youngest out of her bed and towards the door. At those words, Hermione woke completely. The urgency in his tone making her bolt upright as she grabbed her oversized denim jacket from where it lay strewn across the back of her chair; stuffing her book in one of the pockets as she went.

Completely forgoing shoes, Hermione quickly checked to see that her wand was still tucked in the breast pocket of her jacket before she bolted out of the door and into the chaos waiting outside. Horror struck Hermione's face at what she saw. By the firelight, she was able to see that throngs of people were running into the woods, fleeing from…something that was emitting odd flashes of light and sounded eerily like gunfire.

The loud jeers and roaring laughter that drifted over the moors brought her attention to a crowd of tightly packed wizards with their wands pointed skywards. From here she was unable to see their faces—nothing of significance really stood out—though the dark hooded heads and four struggling people in the air above them, gave Hermione an idea of who they were. Death Eaters.

It soon became too much to watch and Hermione hurried over to join Harry and Ron where they stood watching the Death Eaters torture Mr Roberts and his family. "Harry! Ron!" Hermione called, as she joined them, practically stepping on their toes and gripping tight to their hands as her eyes roved over both of them making sure that they weren't hurt.

Both boys stood close enough together that their bed hair practically merged together. Harry's typically messy locks stuck up at so many different angles that it looked like he'd been dragged backwards through a hedge, whilst Ron's own mop resembled a startled Pygmypuff.

On one hand, Ron had worn one of his Weasley sweaters over a pair of red rumpled snitch-covered pyjama pants. The handle of his wand could just be seen poking out the top of his right sock where he'd jammed it after putting on his socks & shoes.

On the other hand, Harry had grabbed yet _another _oversized blue flannel shirt which he wore overtop of his Gryffindor Quidditch training shirt; underneath it all was a pair of faded flannel pyjama pants and mismatched socks that were stuffed into his shoes. Despite their obvious bed hair and bedraggled appearances, both boys stood watching the scene around them with wide eyes and fearful faces.

Ginny and Mr Weasley appeared not long after. "We're going to help the Ministry" Mr Weasley shouted over the noise as he rolled up his sleeves and Bill, Charles and Percy had already sprinted passed with wands raised, "You lot—get into the woods and _stick together. _I'll come fetch you when this is all sorted out!"

"C'mon" Fred grabbed Ginny's hand and started to pull her towards the wood. With eyes wide in fear and heart pounding in her chest, Hermione pulled Harry & Ron after and George took up the tailing end, following them all into the wood.

When they reached the treeline, Hermione glanced back to see that the crowd beneath the Roberts family had grown in size, though the Ministry wizards were trying their best to force their way through to the centre of the crowd.

By now the once colourful lanterns that had lit the way to the stadium were now extinguished leaving the throngs of people to stumble around in the dark. And Merlin, was it dark!—Hermione could barely see her own hand in front of her face, let alone the path in front of them.

Childish cries, anxious shouts and panicked voices echoed throughout the dark wood as they were pushed around by people trying to escape from the horrors behind them; all the while Hermione never let go of Harry and Ron.

Suddenly, Ron let out a yelp of pain as he fell, letting go of Hermione's hand so as to catch himself before he fell face first onto the dark forest floor. "What happened?" Hermione asked anxiously, tightening her grip on Harry as she felt Ron's hand disappear, "Ron, where are you? Oh this is stupid—_Lumos!"_

A bright beam of light illuminated from the tip of her wand and directed them down the narrow path to where Ron lay sprawled on the floor. "Ron!" Hermione rushed over, pulling Harry along behind.

"Tripped over a tree root" Ron muttered angrily getting to his feet.

"Well, with feet that size, hard not to" Drawled a familiar voice from behind them. Turning sharply, the trio saw Draco Malfoy standing alone and leaning lackadaisically against the tree behind him, with arms folded he seemed to have been watching the scene at the campsite through a gap in the trees.

"Why don't you fuck off, Malfoy!" Ron sneered, something Hermione knew he would _never _have the balls to say in front of his mother.

"Language, Weasley" Said Draco, eyes gleaming "Hadn't you better be hurrying along now? You wouldn't like _her _spotted, now would you?" He nodded at Hermione at the same time a bomb-like blast exploded amongst the campsite and flash of brilliant green lit up the trees around them.

"What's _that _supposed to mean?" Hermione narrowed her eyes at the blonde.

"Granger, they're after _Muggles. _D'you want to be showing off your knickers in midair? Because if you do, hang around…they're moving this way and it would all give us a laugh"

"Hermione's a _witch" _Harry snarled in defiance.

"Have it your way Potter" Malfoy grinned maliciously, "If you think they can't spot a schlammure stay where you are"

"Oh well done, Malfoy" Hermione sarcastically clapped her hands as she turned to the cocky blonde, "How long did it take you to come up with that one? Do you have any more? No? Then _fuck off!" _

Spinning on her heel, she dragged the two surprised wizards further into the woods with her head held high. Behind them, she was sure Draco had called something offensive towards there backs, but Hermione paid him no mind.

"Wha—where did that come from?!" Ron demanded, easily outpacing Hermione's small steps.

"We've got enough shit to deal with and Malfoy's taunts are _not _one of them" Hermione huffed.

"You're swearing! But you never swear!"

"Seriously? That's what you're stuck on?"

"What was that? What did he say?" Harry interjected, puzzling over the strange word.

"It's German" Hermione sighed in resignation, "It literally means 'mud whore' He basically just called me a Mudblood in another language"

_"What?!"_

"Nevermind, it doesn't matter, let's just go"

"But Hermione—!"

"It's fine; you hear a word often enough and it loses all meaning and force"

"…I'll bet you anything his dad _is _one of that masked lot!" Ron said hotly.

"Well, with any luck the Ministry will catch them!" Hermione replied, "Oh for Circe's sake! Where have the others got to?" It was only now that the trio noticed that Fred, George and Ginny were nowhere to be seen, though the path was packed with plenty of other people all looking over their shoulders with understandably nervous expressions directed back towards the now deserted campsite. "Fred and George can't have gotten far" Ron reasoned, pulling out his wand and lighting it just as Hermione had done.

"Ah, no, damn!…I've lost my wand!" Harry cried shuffling through his pockets as he did so.

"You're kidding!" Ron and Hermione raised their own wands high enough for them to spread their narrow beams farther along the ground in their search for their friend's wand. "Maybe it's back at the tent?" Ron suggested.

"Maybe it fell out of your pocket when we were running?" Hermione worried.

"Yeah, maybe…" Harry murmured.

Nearby, a rustling noise that barely broke above the roar of the panicked crowd made the trio jump in fright. Winky, Barty Crouch's house-elf (who they'd met earlier in the evening), came rushing out of the brush squeaking as she ran by. "There is bad wizards about! People high—high in the air! Winky is getting out of the way!"

"What's up with her?" Ron looked after the distraught elf, "Why can't she run properly?"

"Bet she didn't ask permission to hide" Said Harry.

"You know, house-elves get a very _raw _deal!" Hermione piped up, "It's slavery, is what it is! That Mr Crouch made her go all the way up to the top of the stadium—even though she was terrified and now he's got her bewitched so she can't even run when they start trampling tents! Why doesn't anyone _do _something about it?"

"Well, the elves are happy, aren't they?" Replied Ron, "You heard old Winky back at the match…_'House-elves is not supposed to have fun'…_That's what she like, being bossed around…"

"It's people like _you, _Ron, who prop up rotten & unjust system just because they're too lazy to—"

Hermione practically jumped out of her skin as another loud bang shook the wood and broke through the bickering duo, which really wasn't the best time for it anyway. Next to her Hermione could've sworn Harry looked relieved that they had suddenly stopped arguing.

"Let's just go" Ron suggested, glancing worriedly at Hermione as he took Malfoy's words into account.

"Right" Hermione took up the boy's hands once more and they moved further into the dark wood, tripping and stumbling over the undergrowth that lined the floor. Following the path into the dark wood, they passed by a group of goblins cackling over a sack of gold—no doubt their winnings from the match and further along cluttered under a patch of silvery light stood a gaggle of wizards trying to impress the veela there—they were practically throwing themselves at the women.

Redirecting the trio away from the drooling wizards, Hermione and the boys soon found themselves in the very heart of the wood; where everything was much quieter and she could see the glittering night sky through the gap in the canopy made by the ring of trees in the clearing.

"I reckon we just wait here, y'know. We'll hear anyone coming a mile off" Harry suggested. Though the words were hardly out of his mouth when Bagman came stumbling out from behind a tree right ahead of them. Contrary to the bright and happy man they had met earlier in the evening, this time he wore a strained and white expression.

"Who's that?" Bagman called, squinting in to the darkness as he tried to make out their faces, "What are you doin in here?"

"Well, there's a sort of riot going on…" Ron trailed.

"What?"

"At the campsite…some got a hold of a Muggle family…"

"Damn them!" Bagman swore loudly, before he disapparated away without another word.

"Not exactly on top of things is he?" Hermione frowned.

"He's a great beater though" Ron defended weakly, "The Wimbourne Wasps won the league three times in a row while he was with them"

"…I hope the others are okay" Hermione watched Ron's tiny figurine of Krum wander around the forest floor as they waited.

"They'll be fine"

"Imagine if your Dad catches Lucius Malfoy" Harry smiled, "He's always said he'd like to get something on him"

"That'd wipe the smirk off old Draco's face" Ron grinned.

"Those poor Muggles though…" Hermione murmured, glancing back over her shoulder towards the campsite, "What if they can't get them down?"

"They will" Ron reassured, "They'll find a way"

Hermione went to say more when she suddenly swung around, shoulders tensed as she looked in the direction that the sound had come from. "Hermione? What is it?" Harry asked turning to the girl.

"I thought I heard something" Hermione murmured rising to her feet and padded closer to the treeline that bordered the clearing of the wood. Sharing a glance between them, both Harry and Ron stopped their chatter as they too, turned to follow her gaze out across the clearing.

At first, Hermione had dismissed the sound of staggering footsteps to be those of another frantic camper but that idea was soon rejected when the sound of the footsteps came to a halt not too far from where the trio were hiding. Behind her, Hermione heard Harry call softly across the clearing, asking who was there but there came no reply.

Unfortunately, just as it had been within the dark wood, Hermione was unable to make out anything or anyone too far in front of her despite the opening in the canopy over their heads. And then without warning, the silence was ripped apart by a voice which shouted a panicked spell out into the night air.

"_MORSMORDRE!" _Hermione flinched back at the green spell that erupted from the wizards wand (for the voice who uttered the spell was masculine) and the twisting vastness of the glittering green that lit up the sky; piercing through the pitch black like it was nothing.

"What the—?" Ron gasped jumping to his feet as his eyes became glued to the green in the sky.

Right before their eyes, the vast glittering green began to shift and take the shape of a large skull with a snake slithering in and out of the different orifices. Muggleborn though she was, Hermione as per reputation, was well-read and recognised the insignia for what it was. The Dark Mark.

All around them, the woods erupted into terrified screams, ones that put the previous ones to shame. By now the grisly neon skull had floated high enough above the clearing that it illuminated the entire woods around them, casting the trees in an eery green glow.

"Harry, c'me on _move!" _With her heart in her throat, Hermione immediately spun on her heel and raced back towards the boys, grabbing ahold of Ron's sleeve and Harry's collar she began to drag them as far away from the mark as possible.

"What's the matter?" Harry appeared startled by her sudden change in parlour and attitude.

"It's the Dark Mark, Harry! You-Know-Who's sign!"

"_Voldemorts—?"_

_"_Harry, come _on!"_

Though Harry tried to turn and look over his shoulder at the woods behind them, Hermione steamrolled the trio forward, barley making it a few hurried steps before the sounds of apparition popped all around them, announcing the arrival of several different wizards.

_Oh God! That wizard called in more Death Eaters! _Immediately, Hermione's mind jumped to the worst thing possible as the wizards came in closer with their wands raised toward them. She barely had time to think before Harry had dragged her and Ron to the forest floor and spells began to fly.

_"STUPEFY!" _At least twenty voices roared in unison as every spell connected with each other above their heads and rained down on the trio in a series of sparks and a powerful wind swept through the clearing at the aftershock of the spells. In an act of complete panic, Hermione ripped her hands from the boys and raised them above her head in an 'X' shape with both fists and eyes clenched shut.

All at once, the movement around them stopped, though the twenty voices of the witches and wizards around them turned to panic at the sudden wandless spell. "What…? What is she…doing?" Gasped one wizard, unable to move from where he had been frozen in place.

"Let us go…you crazy witch!" Cried another.

The spell that Hermione had used in her panic had caused all the surrounding witches and wizards to freeze in place, their limbs no longer responded to their own commands sans their mouths which seemed to work just fine. Though of those who had spoken, they seemed to have much trouble doing so; gritting out their words through unintentionally clenched teeth and gasping breathes that rattled in around in their lungs.

"…'Mione?" Harry whispered, placing a hand on her shoulder when he eventually opened his eyes to the scene around him. "Mione, what are you doing?"

"Harry that's old magic…" Ron muttered in reply, some part of him recognising the old magic from tales that his mother had told them when they were younger.

"Mione? It's okay, we're okay" Harry tried again when Hermione refused to move from her hunched position.

This time Hermione slowly peeled opened her eyes to find Harry's concerned gaze searching her face for something whilst Ron appeared scared; of her or what was going on she wasn't sure. Ever so slowly she drew herself out of the hunched position she had fallen into until she rose to her feet with the two boys, but both her arms were still crossed in front of her.

Absentmindedly, Hermione noticed that Mr Weasley had come barrelling into the clearing with panic clearly written in his expression and voice. "Mione it's okay, you can stop now" Ron whispered as the three huddled in close and Hermione's eyes swept over the wizards surrounding them. "Dad's here, it's okay, you can stop now"

At first Hermione refused to lower her arms, instead letting her eyes rove over the ministry officials in front of them, to where Mr Weasley stood—the only Ministry wizard who was unfrozen— then back to Harry and finally Ron.

Both Harry and Ron nodded as if to reassure her it was okay, before Hermione let out a shaky breathe and slowly began to unravel the spell she had cast. Wordlessly her clenched fingers uncurled one by one until both palms were facing outwards as if she had let something go and then she gently uncrossed her arms, letting them fall gently to her sides once more.

Hermione shifted nervously as the wizards around them regained the feeling in their limbs, some slumped over in place whilst others collapsed to the forest floor heaving in lungfuls of air. "…'Mione, what was that?" Harry asked as the brunette tucked herself into his side and clung to Ron's arm as if to shield herself.

"…I panicked…" Hermione muttered, hiding her face in the collar of her large jacket.

"Mione that was old magic" Ron added, "Where'd you even learn that?"

"I've only read about it"

"…You're a little scary sometimes, y'know that? Brilliant, but scary" Hermione felt the corners of her lips curl up at the familiar line.

"Ron—Harry—Hermione—" Mr Weasley bustled over to the trio who were huddled in close together, completely bypassing the recovering wizards around him, "Are you alright?" Before they could answer however, Mr Crouch led the march towards them, his face taut with rage.

"Out of the way, Arthur" Mr Crouch demanded, "Which one of you did it? Which one of you conjured the Dark Mark? Was it you, witch?"

"We didn't do that!" Defended Harry, gesturing up at the glowing green skull.

"We didn't do anything!" Ron added, "What did you attack us for?"

"Do _not _lie to me!" Mr Crouch roared, his wand now directed towards the three teens, You have been discovered at the scene of the crime!"

"Barty" Whispered a witch garbed in a long woollen dressing gown, "They're just kids, Barty, they'd never be able to—"

"Where _did _the Mark come from, you three?" Mr Weasley asked quickly, though still trying not to panic the teens.

"Over there" Hermione pointed shakily to where she had seen the light erupt from, "There was some behind the tree…the shouted words…an incantation…"

"Oh, stood over there, did they?" Mr Crouch turned his mocking disbelief to Hermione this time, "Said an incantation, did they? You seem very well informed about how that Mark was summoned, missy…And that spell you used just now, how can we trust what you saying? Hm?"

"That's because I read. From books, y'know those things with words in them?" Hermione replied hotly, suddenly affronted at the accusations being thrown her way.

"Mione, you're not helping yourself" Ron murmured into her ear.

"Hmpf!" Hermione crossed her arms with a pout as she stared defiantly at Mr Crouch.

Mr Crouch's face turned sour at the reply though none of the other Ministry Officials seemed to think that the bedraggled teens were involved. Harry was missing his wand and Hermione wore no shoes for Merlin's sake!

"We're too late anyway" Spoke up the woollen witch, "They'll have disapparated by now"

"I don't think so" Replied a wizard with a scrubbily brown beard.

"Our stunners went right through those trees…" Continued Mr Diggory, "There's a good chance we got them…"

"Amos, be careful!" A few wizards warned as Mr Diggory squared his shoulders and marched into the woods with his wand raised in the air. It was barely a few moments later when Mr Diggory's shout echoed back through the woods.

"Yes! We've got 'em! There's someone her! Unconscious! But—blimey…"

"You've got someone?" Mr Crouch called back in disbelief, "Who? Who is it?"

Twigs snapped and leaves rustled as Mr Diggory remerged from the trees with a tiny limp figure draped across his arms. A figure Hermione recognised as Winky, Mr Crouch's house-elf. No one moved or spoke as Mr Diggory laid the limp elf at Mr Crouch's feet, though it seemed all eyes were trained on the wizards as he stared transfixed at the small creature before him.

"This—cannot—be" Mr Crouch muttered jerkily, "No—" Quickly skirting Mr Diggory, Mr Crouch disappeared into the woods, intent on finding out if there was anyone else still there. They could hear his moving through the brush as he searched for any sign that it wasn't his elf, afraid of what it would imply.

"Bit embarrassing" Griped Mr Diggory, "Barty's house-elf, I mean…"

"Come off it, Amos" Mr Weasley murmured, "You don't seriously think it was the elf? The Dark Mark's a wizard sign. It requires a wand"

"Yeah and she _had _a wand"

"_What?"_

"Here, look" Mr Diggory pulled out the wand that had been in the elf's possession, "Had it in her hand; so that's clause three of the Code of Wand Use broke, for a start"

The sudden reappearance of Ludo Bagman put Hermione on edge, not because the man was shifty or anything, but because he had appeared before them just before the Dark Mark had reappeared right after the Ministry wizards had arrived and accused the teens of the casting the Mark.

With Winky awoken by Mr Diggory the gathered group soon discovered that the wand she had found was Harry's and that she had found it amongst the trees. After more accusations were thrown around—this time accusing Harry and Mr Crouch of conjuring the Mark—Winky was relived of her status as Mr Crouch's elf, Harry was given his wand back and the trio followed Mr Weasley back through the dark woods to their tents.

This time, after recounting what had happened during the woods, everybody cramped themselves in together in the one tent, some kind of thinly veiled safety blanketing the group as they tucked themselves away for bed. Thankfully the only wounds sustained were by Bill, Charles and Percy who had fought on the frontlines and Hermione who had a couple of cuts and scratches on her feet from running through the woods barefoot.

While Hermione, Harry and Ron had commandeered one of double mattresses that they had curled up together on, Ginny had decided to bunk with the twins in the bed across from them, seemingly needing to be close to them so as to quench whatever paranoia still lay in their minds.

Hermione lay on her stomach in the middle with Ron to her right and Harry to her right. Where Ron had sprawled out across his side of the bed, Harry had curled up into a ball at her side and both boys had one arm outstretched that Hermione hugged to herself, keeping them close even when asleep. All around them snores echoed as the early morning light began to dance in the sky and with the sun beginning to rise, Hermione fell asleep snuggled in close to her best friends.


	8. All Aboard!

_**September 1995**_

There was a definite end-of-the-holidays gloom in the air as heavy rain splattered against the train windows as the trio settled into their chosen compartment. In the days following the chaos of the Quidditch World Cup, Hermione, Harry and the Weasley children had stayed close to the Burrow, if only to avoid the wrath of Mrs Weasley.

When they _had _departed for Diagon Alley, Hermione had been glad that she had gotten her books earlier in the summer; though she had been herded into Madam Malkins for her formal dress robes which she had yet to get. After an hour or so of having garment after garment thrown her way, she had eventually settled on a periwinkle dress with layers of tulle that seemed to float where they lay. Though it wasn't something she'd usually buy, Mrs Weasley and Ginny had agreed that it was "the one"; Hermione had agreed if only so she could finally leave.

"…Bagman wanted to tell us what's happened at Hogwarts" Grumbled Ron, pulling Hermione from her thoughts as he covered the excitable Pigwidgeon's cage in an attempt to muffle his hooting, "At the World Cup, remember? But my own mother won't say. Wonder what—"

"Shh!" Hermione suddenly cut off, pressing a finger to her lips as the sound of a familiar drawl drifted in through the open door.

"…Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see…But mother didn't like the idea of me going to school so far away…Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible approach to the Dark Arts…they actually _learn _them, not just the defence rubbish we do…" Malfoy bragged.

Quietly shuffling over to the door, Hermione easily slid shut the compartment door, blocking out Malfoy's voice before marching back to her seat in sock-clad feet. "So he thinks Durmstrang would've suited him, does he?" She muttered, pulling Crookshanks back onto her lap when she sat down, "I wish he _had _gone, then we wouldn't have to put up with him"

"Durmstrang's another wizarding school?" Harry questioned.

"Yeah, and it's got a _horrible _reputation. According to _An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe _it puts a lot of emphasis on the Dark Arts"

"I think I've heard of it" Ron vaguely said, "Where is it?"

"Well, no one knows for sure, do they?"

"Er—why not?" Asked Harry.

"There's traditionally a lot of rivalry between all the magic schools, that's why they conceal themselves so the others schools can't steal their secrets"

"Come off it" Ron laughed, "Durmstrang's gotta be about the size of Hogwarts, how do you hide a great big castle?"

"The same way you put a three-room apartment into a two-man tent" Hermione sassed, "With magic. To a Muggle, Hogwarts looks like a mouldering old ruin with signs warning danger, do not enter, unsafe"

"So Durmstrang'll just look like a ruin to an outside too?"

"Maybe, or it might have other charms on it like the Muggle-repelling charm or an Unplottable charm—"

"Come again?"

"Well you can't enchant a building you can't find it on a map, can you?"

"Er…if you say so"

"Anyway, I reckon Durmstrang must be somewhere really cold because they've got fur capes as part of their uniforms" Hermione continued.

"Ah think of the possibilities" Ron sighed dreamily, "It would've been so easy to push Malfoy off a glacier…shame his mother likes him…"

As the train ride drew on, Hermione delved into one of the many Wiccan novels she had tucked away in her trunk whilst the boys filled in the hours snacking on sweets from the trolley, playing rounds of exploding snap and catching up with friends who dropped by including the inevitable interaction with Malfoy who seemed it necessary to assert his dominance in a very peacock-like manner.

_Boys. _Hidden behind her current book, _The Gatekeeper: Keeper of Witches, _Hermione rolled her eyes at the unnecessary peacocking, even as Malfoy and his little gang left and Ron slammed the compartment door shut so hard that the glass pane shattered on impact.

"Oh honestly, Ron—_Reparo!—_Don't let Malfoy get to you" Hermione popped out from behind her book for a moment.

"Him! Get to me?! As if!" Ron grumbled, picking up on the remaining cauldron cakes and squashed it into a pulp in his anger.

"…What did that cake ever do to you?" Ron just glared at Hermione before plopping back into his seat with a huff. "Fine, if you're going to be like that…"

Snapping her book shut, Hermione rose to her feet and grabbing her robes on her way out disappeared down the train so she could change and find her other friends in the last bit of the train ride. Slipping inside the end stall, it didn't take long for Hermione to swap out her acid wash jeans for her pleated school skirt and her floral blouse for her school shirt, tie & cardigan.

Forgoing her cloak for the moment, Hermione quickly went through the motions of tying her Gryffindor tie where it hung snugly around her neck before she departed from the busy bathroom and headed down the train in search for the other girls.

"Minnie!" Cheered Charlotte as Hermione slid open the compartment filled with girls and familiars under piles of sweets. Crammed up next to the windows were Charlotte and Emilia Wilson (a sixth year Hufflepuff) on either side of the compartment; to their sides sat Victoria Baker (a seventh year Gryffindor) and Lila. Finally, Luna Lovegood (a third year Ravenclaw) and Sophie sat contentedly on the floor, amongst all the wrappers playing exploding snap.

"Hey, Ringtail" Hermione smiled, shoving over some sweets so that she could sit next to Lila who was happily shoving chocolate frogs into her mouth.

"Y'know, we were just talking 'bout that…" Emilia mused around the sugar quill sticking out of her mouth.

"Oh?"

"Well, we've all got our monikers…"

"Yeah…"

"But you two haven't got your names yet"

"What? Like yours?" Hermione smiled. The names that Emilia referred to were just nicknames or codenames that the girls had given each other after they had first discovered their animagus forms.

Charlotte was a racoon & therefore Ringtail, Lila was a tabby maine coon & therefore was dubbed Cheshire. Emilia was a sleek dalmatian named Pongo, Sophie was a great horned owl named Archimedes and Victoria was a wild mouse called Whiskers. _Kinda reminds me of the Marauders thing to be honest, not that they know that of course._

"Hey! Pongo is a very good name, thank you!" Emilia defended, "Oi! What are you grinning about Cheshire?" The girl turned to Lila who sat nearby.

"Nothin'" Lila grinned.

"Yeah right"

"Just tell 'em what they need to do, Pongo" Sophie drawled from behind her collection of cards where she and Luna were playing exploding snap at their feet.

"I'm getting there, Archimedes!" Emilia turned back to face Hermione as she continued, "Anyway, as I was saying, we reckon you two are ready for the next step"

"Which is…?" Hermione pursued.

"Your animagus'"

* * *

As the train doors opened again, the sound of thunder rumbled overhead accompanied by the sounds of grumbling students as they dashed out of the warm train into the wet weather as they made their way to the castle.

Hermione had rejoined Harry and Ron by then where she had bundled Crookshanks into her cloak and raised her wand skyward where she cast a wordless umbrella charm to shield her from the pelting rain; for once glad for Mrs Weasley's instance that she learn some domestic spells. By this point, both boys had huddled together on either side of her so as to share the small patch or dryness as they headed for the thestral-pulled carriages parked to the side.

"Hey Hagrid!" Harry called to the large silhouette at the far end of the platform as the trio passed.

"All righ', 'Arry?" Hagrid bellowed back with a wave, "See ya at the feast, if we don' drown!"

"Ooh! I wouldn't fancy crossing the lake in this weather" Hermione shivered as they clambered into a carriage along with Neville, Ginny and Luna. The door snapped shut behind them and a few moments later the carriage lurched forth, following the long procession up the path to the castle.


	9. Feasts & Tournaments

Hermione gazed out of the window as the carriage drew closer to the castle, through the large iron gates with the winged boar statues flanking either side. The many twinkling lights of Hogwarts could barely be seen through the hellish weather, only ever lighting up fully when lightning struck above the old castle, illuminating it for a moment.

Scrambling from the carriage to the castle door, Hermione made sure to put up the umbrella spell once more, allowing her to take care when she made her way up the slippery stone steps behind the Ron, Harry, Ginny and Neville. Next to her, Luna seemed to care little about the rain pelting down on her as she trundled absentmindedly up the steps.

"Blimey" Ron shook out his wet hair like a dog, "If that keeps up the lake's gonna overflow. I'm soak—ARRGH!" A bulging red water balloon had dropped from out of the ceiling onto Ron's head, drowning him once more as it exploded. Sputtering and drenched, Ron staggered into Harry just as a second water balloon was released, bursting at Harry's feet.

Hermione, who had yet to release the umbrella spell she had cast, stood amongst the carnage as the only person who was relatively dry (sans her squeaky shoes). All around her, people shrieked and squawked, pushing each other in an effort to get out of the line of fire—many of them using their cloaks or bags to shield themselves as they went.

Glancing up through the shimmering umbrella, Hermione scowled up at the culprit floating merrily about twenty feet above them. It was Peeves the Poltergeist, a little man in a bell-covered hat and matching orange bow tie.

"PEEVES!" Bellowed McGonagall as she rounded the corner, dashing straight from the Great Hall towards the poltergeist and the mess he had made. "PEEVES! Come down here at ONCE!" Skidding slightly on the wet floor, it was all Hermione could do but helplessly grab at the witch's flailing arms as she went down. "Ouch—sorry, Miss Granger—"

"That's all right, Professor!" Hermione murmured as she rubbed her cheek where one of the flailing limbs had hit her.

"Peeves, get down here NOW!" McGonagall barked, her glare doing nothing to deter the mischievous ghost.

"Not doing nothin'!" Cackled Peeves, lobbing another water ballon at a group of fifth years who screamed and dived into the Great Hall, "Already wet, ain't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeee!"

"I shall call the headmaster! I'm warning you Peeves—!"

Peeves just stuck his tongue out in reply before zooming off up the staircase all the while cackling madly. "Well, move along then!" McGonagall then turned to the bedraggles crowd, shooing them forth, "Into the Great Hall, come on!"

As per usual, the Great Hall was decorated in its usual start-of-term decor with golden plates and gleaming goblets set out along the four long tables. Wax candles floated high above their heads and the mural on the ceiling had been enchanted to look like the night sky; reflecting the raging storm outside.

Passing the Slytherins, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, the trio situated themselves along with the rest of the Gryffindors at their table next to Nearly Headless Nick, where they waited for the ceremony to begin.

"Good evening" Beamed Nick.

"Says who?" Snarked Harry as he pulled off his water-logged shoes and tipped out onto the floor, "Hope they hurry up with the Sorting. I'm starving"

"Yeah, me too" Agreed Ron as he wrung out his wet soaks next to him. Hermione watched the two boys with disdain as they shoved their wet shoes under the table, out of the way. "Hey how come you're not wet, 'Mione?"

"Your mother insisted that I learned domestic spells over the summer, saying that _'you're a young woman now…' _and _'you'll never get a husband without these…"_

"H-husband?"

"Don't get me started…" Hermione sighed, "…Though some of them are rather helpful…"

Just then Harry turned back to the pair having ended his one-sided conversation with Colin Creevey, a rather…enthusiastic third year, "Siblings usually go in the same houses, don't they?"

"Not necessarily" Hermione replied, "Parvati Patil's twin's in Ravenclaw and they're identical. You'd think they'd be together, wouldn't you?"

Harry merely shrugged as he let his gaze wander over the staff followed Harry's gaze up to the staff table at the front of the hall where there seemed to be more empty seats that usual. Hagrid, of course, was still wading across the Great Lake with the first years and McGonagall was presumably supervising the drying of the entrance hall, which left the last empty chair for this year's defence professor.

"Where's the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Hermione questioned her thoughts turning to the rumours of how the position was supposedly cursed, "Maybe they couldn't get anyone…" Trailing her gaze over the table once more, Hermione noted that Flitwick, the Charms teacher was sat upon a large pile of cushions so he could reach the tabletop; next to him was Sprout, the Herbology teacher whose hat sat askew atop her free grey hair, was talking to Sinistra, the Astronomy teacher.

On Sinistra's other side sat the sallow-faced and hook-nosed potions teacher, Snape who had great disliking for any students who weren't in his own house, Slytherin. The next seat was empty—probably McGonagall's, then there was the silver-haired headmaster, Dumbledore, in the very centre of the table where he sat deep in thought.

"Oh _hurry up_" Moaned Ron from beside Harry, "I could eat a hippogriff"

"How is that any different from usual?" Harry smiled, earning a shove from the ginger just as the doors to the Great Hall swung inwards and silence fell.

McGonagall led the water-logged and shivering first years up the aisle before coming to a halt in front of the bow-legged wooden still upon which the Sorting Hat sat waiting. There was a moment of silence before the deep creases in the old Hat open and it began to sing; it's deep rustic crooning sweeping out across the Great Hall.

_A thousand years or more ago,_

_When I was newly sewn,_

_There lived four wizards of renown,_

_Whose names are still well known;_

_Bold Gryffindor, from wild for,_

_Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,_

_Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad, _

_Shrewd Slytherin, from fen._

_They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,_

_They hatched a daring plan_

_To educate young sorcerers_

_Thus Hogwarts School began._

_Now each of these four founders_

_Formed their own house, for each_

_Did value different virtues_

_In the ones they had to teach._

_By Gryffindor, the bravest were_

_Prized far beyond the rest;_

_For Ravenclaw, the cleverest_

_Would always be the best;_

_For Hufflepuff, hard workers were_

_Most worthy of admission;_

_And power-hungry Slytherin_

_Loved those of great ambition._

_While still alive they did divide_

_Their favourites from the throng,_

_Yet how to pick the worthy ones_

_When they are dead and gone?_

_'Twas Gryffindor who found the way,_

_He whipped me off his head_

_The founders put some brains in me_

_So I could choose instead!_

_Now slip me snug about your ears,_

_I've never yet been wrong,_

_I'll have a look inside your mind_

_And tell you where you belong!_

The Great Hall rang with polite applause as the Hat finished its song. "That's not the song it sang when it Sorted us" Harry pointed out as he clapped.

"Sings a different one every year" Replied Ron, "It's gotta be a pretty boring life being a hat. Suppose it spends most o' the year making up the next one"

Hermione leant her chin on her hand where it was propped up against the tabletop; her eyes trained on McGonagall who had unravelled the scroll of parchment in her hands as her thoughts began to drift back to conversation on the train.

_"…Your Animagus" grinned Emilia. Hermione shared a grin with Luna, her own gleaming grin mirrored in the blonde's excited one and then in turn at the ones in the older girls around them. Sure, the two younger girls were considered to be members of the coven, but with the proposal of becoming an Animagus it finally felt official._

_"And what would this entail?" Hermione hedged, though she couldn't wipe the grin off of her face. _

_"First" Victoria spoke up, "You need to understand that even if you know what your Patronus is, you Animagus won't necessarily be the same"_

_"Though they often are" Sophie pointed out._

_"Yeah, that's true"_

_"Anyway" Emilia continued, shooting the pair a glare for interrupting, "The first thing you have to do is hold a mandrake leaf in your mouth for an entire month"_

_"And no swallowing it!" Sophie pointed to both of them like a teacher calling out a student._

_"Or vomiting" Teased Lila._

_"It was one time!" Cried Charlotte with red-tinted ears._

_"And the rest"_

Absentmindedly, Hermione loaded her plate with roasted vegetables and chicken, before dousing the whole thing in gravy when the Sorting had ended and the Feast had begun. Her eyes still held a glassy look though, as she picked at her dinner and drifted back into her thoughts

_"Can I continue or are you lot gonna keep interrupting me?" Emilia huffed._

_"Sorry, Pongo, go ahead"_

_"Thanks, anyway, as I was saying, first you have to hold the mandrake leaf in your mouth for an entire month. Then you have to recite the incantation: Amato Animo Animato Animagus, every sunrise and sunset with your wand tip pressed to your heart—"_

_"I did it during my daily prayers" Lila told them, "Made it easier to remember to do it"_

_"—And before the consumption of the potion during a lightning storm. Any questions?"_

_"What happens if we miss a day?" Luna questioned "Or swallow the mandrake leaf?"_

_"Then you'll have to start the whole process over again" Victoria grumbled, sounding like she had learnt from experience._

_"And the potion…?" Asked Hermione._

_"Uh, yeah…the potion's a little more complicated"_

_"Well, it is an advanced skill, becoming an Animagus, I mean" Charlotte pointed out. "So it makes sense that not everything will be easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy" _

_"But don't worry, we'll help" Added Sophie._

_"So are you ready?" Lila asked._

_Hermione shared another grin with Luna before turning to the expectant girls around them,"When can we start?"_

"SO!" Dumbledore loudly clapped his hands making Hermione jump and broke her from her thoughts.

"Hermione, are you alright?" Neville asked from her left.

"Hm? Oh yeah, I'm fine" She brushed off, as she not-so-subtly dropped the fork she had been fiddling with.

"Are you sure? You were just staring off into space and you barely touched your food…"

"Yeah, just thinking"

"Okay…"

"—Now that we're all fed and watered" Dumbledore continued, "I must ask once again for your attention while I give out a few notices. Mr Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you the list of object forbidden inside the castle this year has been extended to Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises of some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr Filch's office if anyone would like to check it"

"Yeah, like _anyone _would willingly go near Filch" Ron muttered, sharing a grin with Harry across the table.

"…As ever, I would like to remind you that the Forbidden Forest is out-of-bounds to students as is the Hogsmeade Village to all those below third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Interhouse Quidditch Cup will not take place this year"

_"What?!" _Harry gasped, sharing a look with the Weasley twins who were mouthing wordlessly at Dumbledore; seemingly far too appalled to say anything. Hermione had to hide her grin behind her hand.

Dumbledore went on, "This is due to an even that will be starting in October and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy—but I am sure you will enjoy it immensely. I have pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts—"

Just then the doors to the Great Hall slammed open with a deafening rumble and thud as they hit the back wall on which they were mounted. A stumpy-looking man stood in the doorway where he leaned upon a long wooden staff and was shrouded in a black travelling cloak.

Every single pair of eyes was trained on the strange man illuminated by the lightning cracking through the sky outside as he shook out his long mane of grizzled grey hair and began to meander up towards the staff table.

A dull_ thu-clunk _could be heard every time he took a step and it echoed throughout the large Hall until he reached the end of the top table, turned to the right and heavily limped towards Dumbledore, who appeared to be the only one unperturbed by the man's sudden appearance.

Hermione let out a small gasp when the lightning from the enchanted ceiling lit up the man's face long enough that she could see that it was creased and gnarled like a beginner woodcarver and created it out of weathered wood. Every inch of skin appeared scarred in some way or another, and the mouth looked like a diagonal gash that slashed through the lower half of his face.

Though it was the upper half of his face that gave Hermione pause; a large portion of the man's nose appeared to be missing and two eyes—one dark and beady, the other a vivid electric blue that zoomed around in its cartoonishly round socket—were strapped to his face as if placed there as an afterthought.

When the stranger reached Dumbledore he stretched out a gnarled hand to the headmaster and shook hands, muttering words that couldn't be heard. Dumbledore seemed to inquire something of the stranger who shook his head and replied in an undertone, unsmiling. Dumbledore then nodded and gestured the strange man towards the empty seat on his right-hand side.

Shaking out his mane of grey hair once more, the stranger fell into the empty seat and pulled a plate of sausages towards him. Raising the forkful of meat towards the remains of his nose, he took a long sniff before he began to eat with his dark eye trained on his food, but the blue eye listlessly trailed over the room before him.

"May I introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher" Dumbledore piped up brightly, breaking through the silence, "Professor Moody" Unlike when new staff members were greeted with polite applause, the Hall remained studiously silent as every student took in the creature before them. Both Hagrid and Dumbledore trailed off rather quickly when they realised they were the only two people in the Hall who were clapping.

"Moody?" Harry muttered to Ron, "_Mad-Eye Moody? _The one your dad went to help this morning?"

"Must be" Ron replied in a low awed voice.

"What happened to him? Hermione whispered, unable to pull her eyes away from the cartoonishly blue eye zooming around in its socket, "What happened to his _face?"_

"Dunno" Ron shrugged watching Moody with fascination. Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome as he ignored the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him and pulled out a hip flask from which he took a large swig from.

"As I was saying" Dumbledore cleared his throat, "We are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months; an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that Hogwarts will be hosting the Triwizard Tournament this year!"

"You're JOKING!" Fred barked in surprise. Laughter erupted throughout the Hall at the ginger's outburst and broke through the tension that had blanketed the students ever since Moody's sudden arrival.

"I am _not _joking, Mr Weasley" Dumbledore smiles, "Though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag and a leprechaun who go into a bar…"

McGonagall pointedly cleared her throat before the old headmaster could ramble on.

"Er—but maybe this is not the time…no…" Dumbledore corrected, "Where was I?…Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament…well, as some of you already know, The Triwizard Tournament is a friendly competition that was established some seven hundred years ago between the three largest European wizardry schools: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang.

One champion was selected to represent each school in three magical tasks. Each school took turns to host the tournament once every five years and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way to establish ties between the younger magical community across the different nations—until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that tournament was discontinued"

_"Death toll?!" _Hermione whispered, her eyes wide in alarm; but she appeared to be alone in her alarm as the rest of the student body broke into excitable whispers about reinstating the tournament.

"The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October" Dumbledore continued, "And the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will select the champions to compete in for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school and a thousand Galleons personal prize money!"

Up and down the tables, students broke out into fervent whispers and determined expressions that gazed up at Dumbledore with rapt attention. Many of the students whispering how they were going to put their names fourth, really anything for a chance at the prize money.

Though these dreams were short-lived as Dumbledore explained that an age limit had been placed on the tournament and to ensure no one underage tried anyway, age-restricted spells and enchantments would be placed around the ballot.

"…And now it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and well-rested for your lessons bright and early tomorrow morning! Bedtime! Chop chop!" Dumbledore ended with a clap before turning to talk to Mad-Eye Moody.

"They can't do that!" Grumbled George, "We're seventeen in April, why can't we have a shot?"

"They're not stopping me from entering!" Fred scowled stubbornly, "The champions'll get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally and a thousand Galleon prize money!"

"Yeah…" Ron sighed dreamily, "Yeah, a thousand Galleons…"

"Did you lot forget about the_ high death toll?" _Hermione worried.

"Yeah," Fred replied airily, "But that was years ago, wasn't it? Anyway where's the fun in a bit o' risk?"

"C'me on, we'll be the only ones left if you don't move" Hermione herded the boys out of the Great Hall and up towards the Gryffindor dormitories.

"Who's this impartial judge supposed to be?" Asked Harry.

"Dunno" Said Fred, "But it's them we'll have to fool. I reckon a couple drops of Aging Potion might do it George… "

"Dumbledore knows you're not of age, though" Ron pointed out.

"Yeah, but he's not the one who decides what he champion is, is he?" Sounds to me like once this judge knows who wants to enter, he'll choose the best from each school and never mind how old they are. Dumbledore's trying to stop us giving our names"

"Whose to say it's a person?" Hermione interjected, already seeing a flaw in their plan.

"What'dya mean?" George turned to the brunette.

"Well, it could be like that rooster that predicted the winning rugby team for the Cup that the Muggles did, y'know?"

"A rooster, eh? Ha! Wouldn't that be a laugh! Just have to feed it corn!"

"Well, no, I guess not"

"Hey Ron, if we figure out how to get 'round Dumbledore, wanna enter?" Fred turned to his youngest brother.

"What d'ya reckon?" Ron asked Harry, "Be cool to enter, wouldn't it? But I s'pose they might want someone older…dunno if we've learnt enough…"

"I know I haven't" Came Neville's gloomy voice from behind the twins, "Though I'd expect my gran'd want me to try. She's always going on about how I should be upholding the family honour…"

Finally making it up the stairs to the Gryffindor tower, Hermione split off from the boys, bidding a goodnight as she went. Hoping against hope, that for just one year they could enjoy it without the threat of death hanging over their heads.


	10. Drooling Mandrakes & Wonder Ferrets

Thankfully the storm had blown itself out by the following morning, though the weather was still grey and gloomy. Waking to the snores of Lavender Brown, Hermione tiredly went about her daily prayers before grabbing her toiletries & a towel and shuffled towards the showers.

Scents of citrus and sage floated around the communal bathroom as the sound of R.E.M's _'Losing my Religion'_ rattled out of the enchanted wind-up radio which sat on the dividing wall between her own shower and the one to her right.

_Oh, life is bigger_

_It's bigger_

_Than you and you are not me_

_The lengths that I will go to_

_The distance in your eyes_

_Oh no, I've said too much_

_I set it up_

_That's me in the corner_

_That's me in the spotlight_

_Losing my religion_

_Trying to keep up with you_

_And I don't know if I can do it_

Lathering shampoo and conditioner into her frizzy bed hair, Hermione quietly sang along to the catchy Muggle tune as the shower head pelted water down her back in massaging bullets.

_Oh no, I've said too much_

_I haven't said enough_

_I thought that I heard you laughing_

_I thought that I heard you sing_

_I think I thought I saw you try_

_Every whisper_

_Of every waking hour_

_I'm choosing my confessions_

_Trying to keep an eye on you_

_Like a hurt lost and blinded fool, fool_

_Oh no, I've said too much_

_I set it up_

_Consider this_

_Consider this_

_The hint of the century_

_Consider this_

_The slip that brought me_

_To my knees failed_

When her fingers began to prune, the sounds of waking witches could be heard coming from the bedroom; notifying her that at least Parvati Patil was awake.

_What if all these fantasies_

_Come flailing around_

_Now I've said too much_

_I thought that I heard you laughing_

_I thought that I heard you sing_

_I think I thought I saw you try_

_But that was just a dream_

_That was just a dream_

_That's me in the corner_

_That's me in the spotlight_

_Losing my religion_

Nodding her good morning to the bleary-eyed witch, Hermione turned around to face the shower wall so she could savour the last few minutes of warm water in peace before Lavender decided to deign them with her very loud and gossipy appearance.

_Trying to keep up with you_

_And I don't know if I can do it_

_Oh no, I've said too much_

_I haven't said enough_

_I thought that I heard you laughing_

_I thought that I heard you sing_

_I think I thought I saw you try_

_But that was just a dream_

_Try, cry_

_Why try?_

_That was just a dream, just a dream, just a dream_

_Dream_

When Lavender finally did make her entrance into the shared bathroom, Hermione eventually hauled herself out of the now lukewarm water. Wrapping herself in the fluffy Lions rugby towel, Hermione departed from the bathroom just as the old radio turned to some popular witchy band that Lavender favoured. Just another morning at Hogwarts.

* * *

Despite the storm clearing out that morning, the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall stated otherwise. Where the usually peaceful cloudy sky sat high above the waxy candles, there currently sat heavy clouds of pewter grey swirling insight curls high above them.

"Today's not bad" Ron ran a finger down the Monday column as he examined the timetable in front of him, "Outside all morning…Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures with…damn it, we're still with the Slytherins…"

"Double Divinations this afternoon" Harry groaned looking down at his own.

"You should've dropped it like me then, shouldn't you?" Hermione gloated from over the rim of her goblet filled with pumpkin juice. Ron childishly stuck out his tongue in reply.

Sudden rustling echoed from above them and hundreds of owls of all types came soaring through the open windows carrying the morning's mail. Owls circled tables looking for the right person that their packages and letters were addressed to.

Down the table, a large tawny owl deposited a parcel onto Neville's lap—he was always forgetting something; on the other side of the Hall, a large eagle owl landed on Malfoy's shoulder carrying what looked to be his usual supply of sweets and cakes from home. And an auburn elf owl dropped a couple of letters on top of Hermione's plate—thankfully clean of the toast she had eaten—before taking off.

The first letter was written in the familiar chicken scratch of her parents' handwriting. _Even for dentists, their handwriting is terrible. _Hermione smiled as she read through the familiar "good luck for the year" and "hope you settled in okay". Setting the letter from home aside, she moved onto the second one, this time the familiar looping cursive of Lila's handwriting stared back at her.

_Minnie, _

_Greenhouse 13 at lunch._

_See you then,_

_Cheshire_

* * *

When the trio arrived at greenhouse three, the sodden garden was alive with some of the ugliest foliage Hermione had ever seen. The closer she looked, the more convinced they looked less like plants and more like giant black slugs. Each was squirming slightly and had a number of large, shiny pods on it which appeared to be full of some kind of liquid.

"Bubotubers" Sprout instructed, "They need squeezing. You'll collect the pus—"

"The _what?" _Seamus sounded revolted.

"Pus, Finnigan, pus and it's extremely valuable, so don't waste it. You'll collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves; it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted"

Much like popping a pimple, squeezing the bubtubers was a disgusting but oddly satisfying ordeal. As each pod swelled and popped, a large amount of thick jaundice liquid burst forth, smelling strongly of petrol. By lesson's end, the students had caught all the liquid in the bottles provided, ending up with a couple of litres of the stuff.

"This'll keep Madam Pomfrey happy" Sprout exclaimed, stoppering the last bottle with a cork, "An excellent remedy for the more stubborn forms of acne. Should stop students resorting to desperate measures to rid themselves of pimples"

"Like poor Eloise Midgen" Hannah Abbot, a Hufflepuff, spoke in a hushed voice, "She tried to curse hers off"

"Silly girl" Sprout shook her head "But Madam Pomfrey fixed her nose back on in the end"

Outside, a booming bell tolled from the castle and echoed out across the wet grounds, signalling the end of the lesson. Separating from the Hufflepuffs who climbed the stone steps for Transfiguration, the Gryffindors headed in the other direction, down the sloping lawn towards Hagrid's small cabin at the edges of the Forbidden Forest.

Upon meeting Hagrid out in front of his hut, Hermione saw that Fang, the large black boarhound, seemed to be the tamest of creatures the Hagrid had laid out for them—and that was saying something! An odd rattling noise thrashed inside the wooden crates at Hagrid's feet as Fang strained at his collar, apparently very keen to get to what was inside.

"Mornin'!" Hagrid grinned, "Be'er wait for the Slytherins, they won' want her miss this…Blast-Ended Skrewts!"

"Come again?" Ron asked. Hagrid merely pointed to the wooden crates at his feet.

"Eurgh!" Squealed Lavender, jumping backwards and stumbled into Parvati as she tried to backpedal from he creatures in front of them. Not that Hermione could really blame the blonde.

Blast-Ended Skrewts as it turned out, were shell-less lobster-like creatures which were deathly pale in colour and covered in some kind of greasy slime. Limbs stuck out akimbo in very odd places and there didn't seem to be an obvious head to tail to the creature.

Each crate held about a hundred of the Skrewts, each creature approximately 15cm long, and they crawled overtop of each other like roaches as they tried to escape from the wooden cage that they were thankfully entrapped in.

"On'y jus' hatched" Hagrid puffed up proudly, "So yeh'll be able ter raise 'em yerselves! Thought we'd make a bit of a project of it!"

"And why would we _want _to raise them?" Malfoy asked coldly as he led the Slytherins down the slope. Hagrid appeared stumped at the question, "I mean what do they _do? _What is the _point _of them?"

Hagrid paused for a few seconds, mulling over his answer before he replied roughly, "Tha's next lesson, Malfoy. Yer jus' feedin' 'em today. No, yeh'll wan' tea try 'em on a few different things…I got ant eggs an frog livers an' a bit o' grass snake—jus' try 'em out with a bit o' each"

With great reluctance and deep affection for the half-giant Hermione braved the squelchy handfuls of frog liver before lowering them into one of the wooden crates, trying to tempt at least one of them. _They don't seem to have mouths…do they even have a head? _Hermione mused as she watched in morbid fascination as the creatures bumped into the organ and walked it into the bottom of the crate.

_"Ouch!" _ Yelled Dean after about ten minutes, "It got me! Its end exploded!" Dean angrily shoved the burnt hand in Hagrid's face.

"Ah, yeah, that can happen when they blast off" Hagrid nodded, far more anxious about the state of the Skrewt than that of his student.

"Eurgh! Hagrid!" Lavender piped up, "What's that pointy thing on it?"

"Ah, some of 'em have go' stings" Hagrid continued enthusiastically, "I reckon they're the males…the females've go' sorta sucker things on their bellies…ter suck blood, I reckon"

"Well I can _certainly _see why were trying keep them alive" Malfoy snarked, "Who _wouldn't _want pets that can burn, sting and bite all at once?"

"Just because they're not very pretty doesn't mean they're not useful" Hermione snapped, "Dragon blood's amazingly magical but you wouldn't want a pet dragon, would you?"

* * *

"Well, at least the Skrewts are small" Ron pointed out optimistically as the trio made their way back to the castle at the end of the lesson.

"They are _now" _Hermione sighed exasperatedly, "But once Hagrid's figured out what they eat, I expect they'll be a couple of meters long"

"Well, that won't matter if they turn out to cure seasickness or something, will it?" Ron grinned slyly.

"You know perfectly well I only said that to shut Malfoy up. As a matter of fact, I think he's right. The best thing to do would be to stamp on the lot of them before they starting attacking us all like giant leeches…" Hermione sighed as they crossed the threshold of the Great Hall, "Honestly, I'd rather be raising thestrals"

No sooner had the trio seated themselves at the food-covered Gryffindor table and helped themselves to the lamb roast presented there, did Hermione begin to shove food into her mouth that would've put Ron to shame.

"Er—you alright, 'Mione?" Ron asked as she shoved a forkful of sprouts into her mouth, "You're gonna make yourself puke"

"I'm fine" Hermione replied with as much dignity as she could with the leafy vegetable bulging from her lips, "I just want to get to the library"

_"What?" _Ron cried in disbelief, "Hermione—it's the first day back! We haven't even got homework yet!"

Hermione shrugged, knowing full well that giving the excuse that she was headed to her favoured corner of the castle would throw the boys off her scent and keep them out of her business for as long as she liked. Shovelling down the rest of her food as though she had not eaten for days, Hermione leapt to her feet and called a farewell over her shoulder as she went. "See you at dinner!"

* * *

Slipping and sliding over wet patches of grass, Hermione met up with Luna on the way to greenhouse thirteen, both girls sharing a secretive grin as they made their way down. Passing by greenhouse four, Pongo, the sleek dalmatian, trotted alongside them with Whiskers, the little brown wild mouse, riding atop her head.

Further down the bitch's back sat Cheshire, the tabby maine coon, who purred happily from where she was draped across the dog. And finally from overhead, Archimedes, the great horned owl, soared down on silent wings with Ringtail, the chittering racoon, clinging to her talons like a hang glider.

Eventually the two witches and menagerie of animals gathered together beneath the windows of greenhouse thirteen. With Ringtail deposited in Luna's arms, Archimedes alighted on the ground in front of them, smoothly shifting back into Sophie.

"Right, are ya ready?" Sophie smirked as Whiskers scurried down from Pongo's head and up the waterspout of the greenhouse where she disappeared through the gap in the open window. The sound of tiny nails click-clacking against the concrete floor echoed out of the window as Whiskers hurried over to the potted Mandrakes.

Though it didn't take long for Whiskers to remerge with a Mandrake branch clenched between her teeth, it still felt like the seconds dragged on and Hermione shifted in place nervously as she waited for the tiny mouse to come back. Occasionally she would throw a glance over her shoulder back up towards the castle, or down the sloping lawn towards the forest, worried that someone would catch them in the act.

When Whiskers _did _remerge with the plant in question, Sophie bent to retrieve it from the mouse; plucking two leaves from the branch, she held out one to Hermione and then Luna. "Fair warning, it tastes like dragon piss" Sophie warned. Hermione sent a concerned glance at Luna who wasted no time in placing the leaf in her mouth.

After placing her own leaf in her mouth, Hermione scrunched up her face at the odd sensation that crept across her tastebuds as she swabbed the flora with her tongue. At first, the leaf tasted sour like a mouthful of fizzing whizbees, but after a few moments it began to burn.

Hermione bent over with her hands on her knees as she gagged on the leaf, trying her best to keep the offending foliage in her mouth. This time the fiery taste reminded her of time she had tried to eat a handful of breath mints all at once; only instead of spitting it out as she had done before with the breath mints, she shoved the leaf into her right cheek. Although the Mandrake leaf was now tucked in the alcove of her right cheek and Hermione had stopped gagging for the time being, there was still a steady stream of drool falling from her lips.

"Uh…wha' now?" Drooled Hermione, cupping her hands beneath her soaked chin.

"Open your mouth" Sophie instructed raising her wand, "Wider"

"…" Almost choking on her own slobber, Hermione dutifully opened her gob as wide as it could go, allowing the slobber to flow freely from her mouth like some strange kind of water feature.

_"Sicco! Epoximise!" _As Sophie cast the drying charm and the sticking charm in quick succession, Hermione felt all the salvia in her mouth dry up and the Mandrake leaf glue itself to the roof of her mouth. "You might have to use the drying charm more than once, but the sticking charm should keep the leaf in place for the time being"

"What about eating?"

"That should all be fine, but if you have any more concerns just come and ask one of us. Now remember, you both need to repeat the incantation at every sunrise and sunset"

"What is it again?" Luna asked poking at the leaf in her mouth with her tongue, making her eyes go cross-eyed as she did so.

"It's _Amato Animo Animato Animagus"_

_"Amato Animo Animato Animagus?" _Hermione repeated, committing the spell to memory.

"That's right" Sophie agreed, "And now, we wait"

* * *

"Lots of homework?" Hermione inquired as she caught up with Harry and Ron as they reached the throngs of people headed towards the Hall for dinner, "Professor Vector didn't give _us _any at all!"

"Well, bully for Professor Vector" Ron grumped moodily just as a loud voice rang out from behind them.

"Weasley! Hey Weasley!" Taunted Malfoy. The trio turned to face the blonde and his cronies where they stood, looking throughly pleased about something. _Well, this can't be good. _Hermione thought as the two groups faced off.

"What?" Ron demanded shortly.

"Your dad's in the paper, Weasley" Malfoy brandished a copy of the _Daily Prophet, _raising his voice so that everyone in the entrance hall could hear him belittle the ginger. "Listen to this!

_FURTHER MISTAKES AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC_

_-Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent._

_It seems as though the Ministry of Magic's troubles are not yet at an end. Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch World Cup, and still unable to account for the disappearance of one of its witches, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arnold Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office_

"Imagine them not even getting his name right, Weasley. It's almost like he doesn't exist, isn't it?" Malfoy crowed, looking up from the paper. Ron clenched his hands into fists and grit his teeth in barely contained anger. It was clear by now that everyone in the entrance hall was listening as Malfoy read on:

_…Arnold Weasley, who was charged with the possession of a flying car two years ago, was yesterday involved in a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers (policemen) over a number of highly aggressive dustbins. Mr Weasley appears to have rushed to the aid of 'Mad-Eye' Moody, the aged ex-Auror who retire from the Ministry when no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake and attempted murder._

_Unsurprisingly, Mr Weasley found, upon arrival at Mr Moody's heavily guarded house, that Mr Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr Weasley was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer Daily Prophet questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene_

"And there's a picture, Weasley!" Malfoy crowed, flipping the paper around and holding it up, "A picture of your parents outside their house—if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn't she?"

By now Ron was shaking with fury and all eyes were trained on him. "Get stuffed, Malfoy" Snarled Harry, "C'me on Ron…"

"Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren't you Potter?" Sneered Malfoy, "So tell me, is his mother really that porky or is it just the picture?"

"Y'know _your _mother, Malfoy?" Snapped Harry, quick as a flash as both he and Hermione grabbed Ron by the back of his robes to prevent him from launching himself at the blonde, "—that express she's got like she' got shit under her nose? Has she always looked like that or was it just because you were with her?"

"Don't you _dare _insult my mother, Potter" Malfoy turned pink.

"Keep your fat mouth shut then" Harry turned away.

_BANG!_

Screams rang through the air as a spell was fired at Harry's back. Keeping a firm grip on Ron's robe's Hermione reached around and yanked Harry out of the path of the unknown spell just in time.

_BANG!_

The second spell was followed by a deep roar that swept throughout the throngs of people and echoed around the entrance hall. "OH NO YOU DON'T LADDIE!" Professor Moody limped down the marble staircase with his wand out and pointing straight at the snow white ferry shivering of the stone floor, exactly where Malfoy had been standing not moments before.

A terrified silence blanketed the entrance hall and nobody—sans Moody—moved a muscle. Hermione's grip tightened on the boys' robes as Moody turned to face Harry, only his beady eye staring straight at the boy.

"Did he get you?" Moody growled, his voice low and gravelly like a 50-year old smoker.

"No" Said Harry, "Missed"

"LEAVE IT!" Moody suddenly barked.

"Leave—what?"

"Not you—him!" Moody jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Crabbe who was frozen in place where he had bent to pick up the white ferret. Apparently, Moody's magical eye could quite literally see out the back of his head.

Moody had only just begun to limp towards Crabbe, Goyle and the ferret, when the rodeo gave a terrified squeak before racing off, headed straight for the dungeons, no doubt in search for his head of house.

"I don't think so!" Roared Moody, pointing his wand at the ferret once more. This time the albino rodent flew high into air before falling to the floor with a resounding smack and then bounced upwards once more. "I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back's turned" growled the defence professor as the ferret bounce up and down, squealing in pain, "Stinking, cowardly, scummy…"

Limbs and tail flailed helplessly as the ferret bounced higher and higher still, "Never—do—that—again—" Moody bounced the ferret against the stone floor and then high into the air between each word.

"Professor Moody!" Exclaimed the shocked voice of McGonagall as she hurried down the stairs, her arms laden with a pile of books.

"Hello Professor McGonagall" Moody calms greeted, still bouncing the ferret.

"What—what are you doing?" McGonagall's eyes followed the bouncing ferret up and down through the air.

"Teaching"

"Teach—Moody _is that a student?!"_

"Yep"

"No!" McGonagall whipped out her wand and a moment later Draco Malfoy reappeared with a snap, lying in a heap on the floor with his once sleek hair smothered all over his now positively pink face. "Moody we _never _use Transfiguration as a punishment! Surely the Headmaster told you that?"

"He might've mentioned it, yeah…" Moody cowered, "But I though a good sharp shock—"

"We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!"

"I'll do that then" Moody stared at Malfoy with great dislike.

Malfoy—eyes still watering in pain and humiliation— glared at Moody with such malevolence as he muttered something familiar under his breath involving the words "my father"

"Oh yeah?" Moody said quietly, limping closer to the boy, "Well, I know you father of old, boy…You tell him Moody's keeping a close eye on his son…you tell him tat from me…Now, your Head of House'll be Snape, will it?"

"…Yes" Malfoy resented.

"Another old friend" Growled Moody, "I've been looking forward to chatting with old Snape…come on, you…"

"Don't talk to me" Ron murmured to Hermione and Harry as they watched Moody frog-march Malfoy down towards the dungeons to talk with Snape.

"Why not?" Hermione asked, furrowing her brows in question.

"Because I want to fix that in my memory forever" Ron closed his eyes with a smile as the trio sat themselves down at the Gryffindor table for dinner, "Draco Malfoy, the wonderful bouncing ferret…"

Both Hermione and Harry laughed as they filled their plates with heaping helpings of casserole. "He could've really hurt Malfoy, though" Hermione mused around a forkful of beef, "I wonder what would've happened if McGonagall hadn't shown up…"

"Hermione!" Ron whined.

"What?"

"You're ruining the best moment of my life!"

"I thought that was seeing Krum at the Cup?"

"What? No!"

"Well, you certainly sung your sonnets 'bout him…"

"Hermione!"

Hermione merely grinned wickedly before quickly shovelling more food into her mouth, in the same fashion as she had done at lunch, trying her best not to spill any on her robes. "Don't tell me you're going _back _to the library this evening?" Harry eyed his friend.

"Got to" Replied Hermione, "Loads to do"

"But you told us Professor Vector—"

"It's not schoolwork" Hermione interjected and within five minutes she had cleared her plate and departed.

Upon reaching her favourite corner of the castle Hermione slipped inside, nodded a greeting to Madam Pince, the tight-lipped librarian, and headed towards the back shelves where she pulled everything she could find on animagi. _Tonight's gonna be a looong night._


	11. The Unforgivable Curses

In the days following the wonder ferret incident, not much else had happened, unless you counted Neville melting his sixth cauldron in Potions or Malfoy receiving several ferret-related items in the mail—courtesy of the Weasley twins, of course.

Over the summer, Snape seemed to have gained new levels of vindictiveness, for when Neville had returned from the detention he had served with the Potions professor, he had returned in a state of shaky limbs and sickly parlour. Who knew there were so many ways you could disembowel a barrel full of horned toads?

"Y'know why Snape's in such a foul mood, don't you?" Ron asked Harry. Half of Hermione's attention was focused on listening to Harry & Ron's conversation next to them and the other half was focused on trying to teach Neville the scouring charm in order to remove the remaining toad guts from beneath his fingernails.

"Yeah" Harry nodded, "Moody"

By this point, it was practically common knowledge that Snape really wanted the Dark Arts job, and this year meant it was his fourth consecutive failure to obtain it. Snape had held a great dislike for their previous teachers as a result—and he'd shown it. Strangely though, he appeared rather wary of displaying his dislike of Moody so publicly; whether it was because he was a hardened ex-Auror or because there was something more to it.

"I reckon Snape's a bit scared of him, y'know" Harry mused.

"Imagine if Moody turned Snape into a horned toad" Ron sighed dreamily, "And bounced him all around his dungeon…" Hermione tried to hide the grin pulling at her lips at the image Ron had painted.

* * *

Following the ferret incident and many of the reports from the older students, the fourth year Gryffindors were rather looking forward to their first lesson with Moody. So much so that they arrived early on Thursday lunchtime and queued up outside his classroom, waiting for the bell to ring. For the first time in a long time, Hermione was the last one to arrive.

"Been in the—" Hermione began.

"Library" Chorused Harry & Ron, without even missing a beat.

"C'me on, quick, or we won't get decent seats" Harry hurried inside with Ron and Hermione on his heels.

Falling into one of the three empty chairs at the front of the class, Hermione had to spend a minute or two quickly exchanging her borrowed copies of _Guide to Advanced Transfiguration, Faces of Your Soul: Rituals in Art, Mask-making & Guided Imagery with Ancestors, Spirit Guides, & Totem Animals _and _Messages from your Animal Spirit Guides _with her new copy of _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection._

It wasn't long after that that the distinctive sound of Moody's clunking footsteps could be heard coming down the corridor. Next to her, Ron was practically buzzing in his seat and Harry sat on the edge of his own as they waited for Moody to arrive. _Wished they'd be like this for our other classes._

"You can put those away" Growled Moody as he finally entered the classroom and sat down at the front, leaning against his desk with his clawed wooden foot sticking out from the bottom of his dark robes, "Those books. You won't be needing them"

Running through the register, Moody's magical eye trained on each and every witch or wizard that answered to their name, whilst the regular beady eye trailed down the list. His long grey mane sat twisting around his heavily scarred face in tight ringlets—whether intentional or not.

"Right then" Moody placed the list down next to him, "I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you've had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures—boggarts, Red Caps, hinkypunks, grindylows, Kappas and werewolves, is that right?"

A general murmur of agreement rattled throughout the room. "But you're behind—very behind—on dealing with curses. So I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I've got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark—"

"What _aren't _you saying?" Ron blurted out, making Hermione want to hide her head in her arms at the outburst—secondhand cringe was the worst!

Moody's magical eye spun around in its socket before locking onto Ron who seemed extremely apprehensive until Moody smiled a moment later. Though Hermione thought he was going for something a little less disturbing, the effect of Moody's smile made his heavily scarred face appear more twisted & contorted than ever.

"You'll be Arthur Weasley's son, eh?" Moody said. "Your father got me out of a very tight spot a few days ago…Yeah, I'm staying just the one year—special favour to Dumbledore…one year and then back to my quiet retirement"

He gave a harsh laugh and clapped his gnarled hands together, "So—straight to it: curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now according to the Ministry, I'm supposed to teach you the counter curses and leave it at that. I'm not _supposed _to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in sixth year"

With each new sentence, Hermione could feel her stomach sink lower and her anxiety began to rise. The way that Moody was wording his explanations, the emphasises…it was starting to sound more and more like he…_wanted _to teach them the Dark curses.

"-You're not _supposed _to be old enough to deal with it till then. But the Headmaster's got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen?

A wizard who's about put an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you what eh's about to do. He's not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You _need _to be prepared, you _need _to be alert and watchful. You need to put that away, Miss Brown, when' I'm talking"

Lavender blushed a ruby red and jumped in her seat at being caught out. Apparently Moody's magical eye could see through solid wood as he'd seen Lavender show Parvati her completed horoscope under the desk.

"So…do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?" Moody continued on, though his magical eye stayed trained on Lavender who cowered under his gaze. Several hands rose into the air, some shaky and nervous, others confident and waving; Moody pointed to Ron.

"Er" Ron began tentatively, "My dad told me about one…the Imperius curse or something?"

"Ah yes" Moody nodded appreciatively, "Your father _would _know that one. Gave the Ministry quite a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius curse"

Moody hauled himself up onto his mismatched feet, open his desk drawer and pulled out a glass jar. Hermione winced sympathetically when she saw what was inside the jar—three large black spiders—Ron hated spiders with a passion.

Moody fearlessly reached into the jar and pulled out one of the spiders; holding it in the palm of his hand, he pointed his wand at the creature and muttered, _"Engorgio! Imperio!" _Once enlarged even more, the black spider leapt from Moody's hand on a fine silk thread and began to swing back and forth as though on a trapeze.

Its legs stretched out rigidly then did a backflip, breaking the thread and landed on the desk where it began to cartwheel in circles. Jerking his wand, Moody made the spider rise onto two of its hind legs and made it tap dance. By this point the entire class was laughing—everyone except Moody.

"Think it's funny, do you? He growled, "You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you? Instantaneously, the room plunged into silence, all traces of the joyous laughter erased. "Total control" Moody continued quietly as the spider balled itself up and rolled over and over in continuous loops, "I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats…"

Hermione felt her shoulders begin to tense as she hunched over her desk slightly at the things that he was implying. Next to her, where Ron had been buzzing he was now letting out involuntary shudders and Harry had sat back in his seat, no longer eager to hear what their teacher knew.

"Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius curse" Moody explained, referring to the First Wizarding War when Voldemort had been in his prime, "Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act and who was acting of their own free will.

The Imperius curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character and not everyone's got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" He barked, making everyone jump.

Moody returned the spider to his palm where it remained motionless—apparently far too scared to move. Hermione was starting to regret sitting in the front row. "Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?"

This time Hermione did not raise her hand, though to her surprise Neville did. Neville, whose best subject was Herbology and barely said 'boo' to a fly."Yes?" Inquired Moody, pointing to the nervous boy.

"There's one—the Cruciatus curse" Neville's voice was small but distinctive in the quiet classroom.

"You're name's Longbottom?"

Neville nodded nervously but Moody made no further inquiries, instead turned back to the spider in his palm, spinning his wand deftly through his fingers as he spoke, "The Cruciatus curse…" The swollen spider still lay motionless in the professor's hand—at least until the next incantation fell from his lips. _"Crucio!"_

At once, the spider's legs bent in upon its belly and it rolled over, beginning to twitch horribly as it rocked from side-to-side. If the arachnid had a voice, Hermione was sure it would be screeching in heart-wrenching pain. Moody still did not remove his wand from the spider even as it began to shudder and her violently.

Unable to look at the poor spider anymore, Hermione tore her gaze away, looking anywhere but the front desk. Eyes landing upon Neville, Hermione's eyes blew wide in worry; Neville had his hands clenched tight atop his desk, so much so that his knuckles had gone white. And his eyes—oh his eyes!—His usually nervous eyes had blown wide in horror.

"Stop it!" Hermione shrilly cried, "Can't you see it's bothering him? Stop it!" It seemed to take years for Moody to remove his wand from the spider, allowing the creature to relax even as it still twitched.

"Pain" Moody spoke softly, "You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus curse…That one was very popular once too"

Moody limped over until he stood in front of Hermione's desk where he let the tortured spider slip from his palm to her desktop. Hermione shied away from the spider, not out of fear of it but of the large man stood looming over her.

"Well then, Miss Granger, can you tell us the last curse?" Moody questioned.

"…_Avada Kedavra" _Hermione whispered after a moment's pause when it became clear that neither spider nor teacher were going to move unless she did so. All around her, several people looked at her uneasily, as if she had been the one to spell the spider.

"Ah" Moody nodded, another twisted smile cracking his face, "Yes, the last and the worst. _Avada Kedavra…_the Killing curse"

Hermione refused to remove her eyes from her fisted hands from where they sat tightly clench in her lap. A sense of foreboding washed over her as she watched Moody raise his wand; for a moment she thought he was going to kill her before he pointed towards the spider on her desk.

_"Avada Kedavra!" _Moody roared. At the incantation, Hermione slammed her eyes shut and flinched back from the flash of bright green light, followed by a rushing sound and several stifled cries of alarm from the students around her.

It was only after Hermione had sensed Moody take the dead spider and move away, did she tentatively peel open her eyes. When he began to speak again, it felt as though it was from a distance or through a wall of cotton "Not nice" He said calmly, "Not pleasant. And there's no counter curse, there's not blocking it. Only one person known has ever survived it and he's sitting right in front of me.

_Avada Kedavra's _a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it—you could get all your wands out now point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I'd get so much as a nosebleed. But that doesn't matter, I'm not here to teach you how to do it.

Now, if there's no counter curse, why am I showing you? _Because you've got to know. _You've got to appreciate what the worst is, you don't want to find yourself in a situation where you're facing it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

The class jumped in their seats once more, though now that the demonstrations were over and done with the rest of the class seemed to be more accepting of what Moody had to share. "Now…those three curses—_Avada Kedavra, Imperio _and _Crucio_—are known as the Unforgivable Curses. The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn you a one way ticket to Azkaban.

That's what you're up against, that's what I've gotta teach you to fight. You need preparing, you need arming, but most of all, you need to practise _constant never-ceasing vigilance! _Get out your quills…copy this down…"

The rest of the lesson was spent taking notes on each of the Unforgivable curses and it was perhaps one of the hardest lessons that Hermione had ever had.

* * *

When Moody dismissed the class, everyone burst into a torrent of chatter about the lesson that they had been so eager to attend. Most were discussing the curses in awed voices, like they were some kind of novelty show, like it had been something you'd see at a carnival. But Hermione hadn't found it very entertaining, quite the opposite, in fact.

"Hurry up" Hermione hurried Harry and Ron along as they left the defence classroom, emerging into the throng of students already in the hall.

"Not the ruddy library again?" Ron complained.

"No" Hermione curtly pointed up a side passage, "Neville" Walking over to the boy, Hermione found Neville standing alone halfway up the passage and staring at the opposing stone with the same horrified expression he had worn during the lesson, "Neville?"

"Oh hello" Neville replied, his voice much higher than usual, "Interesting lesson wasn't it? I wonder what's for dinner, I'm—I'm starving, aren't you?"

"Neville, are you alright?" Hermione gently probed.

"Oh yes, I'm fine" Neville rambled in his unnaturally high voice, "Very interesting dinner—I mean lesson, what's for eating?"

"Neville, what—?"

Hermione was cut off by an odd clunking noise that she had begun to associate with the defence professor and the group turned to face him as he arrived. Hermione was ashamed to say she had flinched back, stumbling into Ron slightly at the teacher's appearance; though all four of them were silent as they watched him apprehensively.

But the low and gentle growl that he used appeared to be going for comforting when he spoke next, "It's all right, sonny" Moody said to Neville, "Why don't you come up to my office? Come on…we can have a cup of tea…"

Neville appeared even more frightened at the prospect of tea with Moody, though when he sent a pleading glance in the trio's direction he was faced with similarly poorly concealed looks of apprehension and fear, looks not often worn by the Gryffindors.

"What was that about?" Ron questioned as Neville and Moody turned the corner.

"I don't know" Hermione muttered pensively.

"Some lesson though, eh?" Ron turned to Harry as they set off for the Great Hall, "Fred & George were right, weren't they? he really knows his stuff, Moody, doesn't he? When did _Avada Kedavra, _the way that spider just _died, _just snuffed it right—"

"_Ron!" _Hermione cut off, not-so-gently elbowed the ginger in his ribs.

"What?" Ron turned to Hermione, completely oblivious. Hermione just shook her head, silently telling him not to talk about it anymore.

Seating themselves at the Gryffindor table, the discussion soon turned to what homework they had yet to complete and complaints about which subjects were going to be hell this year. The occasional comment was thrown in about he tournament, but otherwise dinner passed in its usual unsurprising way.

Much like the day before, Hermione shovelled food into her mouth at an incredible pace before dashing out of the Hall and towards the library. Only this time, instead of heading straight towards the Transfiguration section as she had planned to do; she moved further through the shelves until she was near the back of the library, near the Goblin Wars section.

Once there, Hermione collapsed to the floor and let her tears flow. Great big gut-wrenching sobs fell from her lips as she curled up into a ball with fingers clenched her brown curls. Her schoolbag lay askew on the ground next to her, spilling some of it contents onto the floor, but she paid it no mind.

Moody's lesson had been far too much for the young witch, not because she had experienced any of the curses first hand, mind you, but because she knew what he had implied. She knew what he had wanted to do, you could see it in his beady little eye; the man had not only enjoyed those curses, he had thrived on them.

And by Hecate! How close she had been to death! If his wand had been any higher or off target, then it would've been her dead int he classroom and not the spider. Hermione knew what Moody had enjoyed the lesson far more than he should have and that scared her. She wasn't known as the brightest witch of her age for nothing, y'know.

* * *

When curfew began to creep closer, Hermione eventually returned to Gryffindor tower, thankful that her puffy cheeks and red eyes had gone down in the meantime. Climbing through the portrait hole, Hermione joined her friends in front of the fireplace where they had been working on their Divination homework.

"Hello!" She called, "I've just finished!"

"So have I!" Said Ron triumphantly, throwing down his quill. Laying down her stack of books, Hermione pulled Ron's predication towards her.

"Not having a very good month, are you?" She sassed as Crookshanks curled up in her lap, purring loudly and demanding attention.

"Ah well, at least I'm forewarned" Ron yawned.

"You seem to be drowning twice" Hermione returned the parchment.

"Oh am I?" Ron peered down at his predictions, "I'd better change one of them to getting trampled by a rampaging hippogriff"

"Don't you think it's a bit obvious you've made these up?"

"How dare you!" Ron cried in mock-outrage, hand over heart, "We've been working like house-elves here!" Hermione raised her brows at that. "It's just an expression!"

"What's in the box?" Harry asked, setting down his own quill.

"Oh, it's just a couple of books" Hermione shrugged petting Crookshanks who rolled over in her lap, practically begging for a belly rub.

"Just a couple?" Harry pulled the box over to peer inside, "Mione you've got half the library in here!"  
"They're just the ones I couldn't fit in my bag!" Hermione defended as Ron pushed aside his own homework and began to sift through the books she had gathered.

"Some of these are seventh year stuff!" Ron cried pulling out titles like _The Art of Shapeshifting, Shapeshifters: A History _and _Totems, Daemons & Animagi: Your Transformative Guides. _

"Well, there's nothing wrong with reading ahead!" Hermione huffed, snatching up the books and gently placing them back into the box.

"Why are you reading up on…Animagi, anyway?" Harry asked as Hermione took _Monsters Among Us: Skinwalkers _from his hands.

"It's interesting" Hermione gushed, "I mean, it's considered the highest peak of Transfiguration, y'know—Only the most talented witches and wizards can actually do it properly"

There was a pause in which Hermione beamed at the pair of them, clutching the box of books close to her as Crookshanks climbed up onto her shoulders and curled around her neck like a giant fluffy collar. The silence was broken however by a soft _tap tap _on the window.

"Hedwig!" Cried Harry as he launched himself at the window where the snowy owl perched, illuminated by the moonlight. Flying inside, Hedwig soared across the room and landed atop the table and Harry's predictions, "About time!"

"She's got an answer!" Ron added excitedly, pointing at the grubby piece of parchment tied to her leg.

"What does it say?" Hermione asked breathlessly as Harry hastily untied it from Hedwig's leg. Harry read aloud letter in question which was rather short, and looked as though it had been scrawled in a hurry:

_Harry,_

_I'm flying north immediately. This news about your scar is the latest in a series of strange rumours that reached me here. If it hurts again, go straight to Dumbledore—they're saying he's Mad-Eye our of retirement, which means he's reading the signs, even if no one else is._

_I'll be in touch soon. My best to Ron & Hermione. Keep your eyes open, Harry_

_-Padfoot_

"He's flying north?" Hermione whispered as she stared back at Harry's shocked face. "He's coming _back?"_

"Dumbledore's reading what signs?" Ron appeared perplexed, "Harry—what's up?"

"I shouldn't have told him!" Harry hit himself on the forehead with his fist, jolting Hedwig out of his lap.

"What are you on about?"

"It's made him think he's gotta come back! Coming back because he thinks I'm in trouble! And there's nothing wrong with me! And I haven't got anything for you" Harry snapped at Hedwig who was clicking her beak expectantly, "You'll have to go up to the Owlery if you want food" Hedwig glared at him with an offended look before retreating out the open window but not before cuffing Harry over the head with her wing as she went.

"Harry…" Hermione began gently.

"I'm going to bed" Harry said shortly, "See you in the morning"

Hermione could only watch as Harry stomped up the stairs to his dormitory, feeling very much like that easy year she had been hoping for, just went out the window.


	12. The Arrival of Beauxbatons & Durmstrang

**_October 1995_**

Early the following morning, Hermione found herself—at Victoria's suggestion—happily seated cross-legged on the floor of her little hideaway, secreted away from wandering eyes and surrounded by its soft and cosy interior.

After having brought up the issue of no place to put a shrine or small altar in the dorm room—or at least one she could easily hide from her nosy roommates, Victoria had suggested finding somewhere else on the grounds where she could do so.

Her suggestions had ranged everywhere from the Owlery to the Library to the Boathouse to the Forest and back again. But after much consideration, Hermione had opted for something a little different. Using the Weasley's tent from the Quidditch World Cup and Luna's descriptions of the Scamander's infamous suitcase as inspiration—and after a _lot_ of research—she'd placed an undetectable extension charm on a small drawstring pouch.

The pouch in question was nothing out of the ordinary—just something she'd picked up at a flea market at some point. The little drawstring bag was no bigger than a standard softball and easily fit inside her pockets, which was a bonus. The exterior of the bag consisted mostly of a black velvety material, it was also accented with strips of red, white and gold in various other fabrics and obnoxiously fuzzy pompoms that hung from the tassel drawstrings.

Whilst the exterior of the small pouch was not worth a second glance in its terrible tacky decoration, it was the interior that was the real deal. Much like the Scamander suitcase from which Luna had described on many occasion (she'd met the family during a holiday to Peru one year and had gotten on famously with the Scamander grandson. Emilia liked to tease her about it often, making kissy-faces and calling her 'Mrs Scamander') Hermione had chosen to create a simple two-step wooden ladder that descended into the depths of the bag.

Once inside, the main area had been decorated to replicate a mish-mash of both the Burrow's ground floor and the Gryffindor common room—both places where Hermione felt most welcome and safe.

Influences from the Burrow could be seen in many different things from the wooden-encrusted kitchen and dining area with the exposed bricks and rustic pipes to multitude of woollen and hand-knitted garments strewn about the place. There was even a copy of the grandfather clock that indicated where everyone was, though it had been changed into a small clock that sat on the mantel above the fireplace.

And then there were the different things that were taken from the Gryffindor common room, like the great big red love seat that encompassed the stone fireplace. Or the various Gryffindor banners posted around the walls, with lions that moved back and forth along the banners as they silently roared their pride.

And dotted amongst it all were various bits and pieces of her Muggle heritage and symbols of her faith that she just absolutely adored. On one of the windowsills in the kitchen sat her dad's old busted boombox with a collection of labelled cassette tapes stacked next to it, then there was the old wind-up radio that sat tucked away in the drawer next to the sink along with the spare batteries and torch. Then there were the various symbols and runes etched into the windowpanes, the doorframes and the exposed bricks—most consisted of the symbol of the Triple Goddess or a pentagram, while others were runic wards that she'd learnt during class.

Scattered amongst it all sat photos—both Muggle & magic alike—of family and friends. There were magical copies of Harry's parents from the photo album Hagrid gave him in first year and still images of her and her parents camping when she was younger. There were images of the Weasley's lined up in their lettered sweaters, grinning broadly at the camera and ones of the trio just mucking about (usually doing something Quidditch related). There were even a few Muggle pictures of Hermione and her coven sisters dancing in the lantern-lit woods or enjoying a picnic at the park.

Moving further into the 'house' there were three more rooms that were adjoined to the main room. Where the stairway would usually be in the Burrow, was instead a hallway that separated into said rooms. The first on the left was hers, and this had been set up to replicate her bedroom at home.

The bed had no frame, instead the florally-dressed mattress sat snug in the corner of the room beneath one of the many fake windows that had been enchanted to imitate the outside world beyond the glass. The books that she couldn't fit onto the multiple bookshelves had been stacked around the room in various chaotic but organised stacks and the walls had been painted in pastels.

At the bottom of her room sat her shrine and altar, both of which had already been set up with their various items and tools relating to them. The altar had been decorated with various pieces of foliage such as oak acorns and rose petals whilst the shrine held a set of old brass keys and a small wooden figure of Hecate. Both of them were decorated in various coloured candles and scraps of fabric; there was even a small black pouch off to the side which held a couple of animal bones which she occasionally used for talismen.

Across the hall sat the second bedroom had been decorated to replicate Ron's bedroom at the Burrow. This one was supposed to be for Harry and Ron, which although unlikely that they would ever step foot in there, at least gave somewhere for Hermione to put the stuff she had nicked from them over time.

Two separate beds sat snug against the back wall of the rickety room, each tucked into one of the corners along with a large set of drawers. The walls were wallpapered in Quidditch posters from the teams that both Harry and Ron supported and another enchanted window sat on one of the other walls.

Moving away from the boys' room to the one at the end of the hall, revealed a modest bathroom that held nothing more than the necessities. The tiled room held a toilet tucked away behind a coloured pane of glass made of old wine bottles cemented together and then there was the small porcelain sink that sat against the left wall beneath the mirror. Finally, a large sunken bathtub took up most of the floor along the back—something that had been inspired by Lila's descriptions of the Prefect bathrooms at Hogwarts.

And finally the backdoor that connected to the kitchen led to what would have been the Weasley's garden. However, instead Hermione had charmed this particular area to imitate the Forbidden Forest. She had tried to replicate as much as she could about the forest, right down to the chittering of bowtruckles and their coven clearing complete with fire pit and floating lanterns. Although she had left out the acromantulas—little spiders were fine, gigantic man-eating spiders were not.

Yes, this little project had taken far longer than Hermione had ever imagined, but with a little magic and elbow-grease, it was well-worth the end results. And as a bonus—with September having rolled into October, she no longer had to suck on that disgusting Mandrake leaf. Now all was left was to mediate on her form, repeat the incantation and wait for a lightning storm…_Piece of cake…_

* * *

"That was a _lie, _Harry" Hermione scolded sharply over breakfast later that morning after Harry had explained that he had written Sirius and told him that what he had originally written was poppycock and that he should stay away.

"So what?" Said Harry, "He's not going back to Azkaban because of me"

"Drop it" Ron sharply interrupted Hermione who had opened her mouth to retort; but for once Hermione chose to stop before the bickering started again

Though Hermione could tell that Harry was still upset about it all, she dutifully kept silent throughout the rest of the morning even during most of their lessons, at least until it came time for DADA. Like most of their lessons, DADA had become increasingly harder—something that McGonagall had explained to be in preparation for the Ordinary Wizarding Levels (or O.W.L.s) next year—however, the stuff they were being taught by Moody set her on edge.

On this particular day, Moody had surprised the class when he had announced that they would be placed under the Imperius curse and they would have to fight it off as best they could. Hermione had practically hunched her shoulders up 'round her ears when she spoke up, "But—but you said it's illegal, Professor" She said uncertainly as Moody cleared away the desks with a sweep of his wand, leaving large clear space in the middle of the room, "You said—to use it against another human was—"

"Dumbledore wants you taught what it feels like" Moody interjected, his magical eye swivelled onto her and fixed the brunette with an eerie unblinking stare. "If you'd rather learn the hard way—when someone's putting it on you so they can control you completely, fine by me. You're excused. Off you go" He pointed a gnarled finger towards the door.

Hermione grew very pink and shuffled in place as she muttered an excuse under her breath about wanting an explanation not a dismissal. Out of the corner of her eye, she could've sworn that both Harry and Ron were grinning at each other knowingly.

With that out of the way, Moody began to beckon students forward one at a time, place the curse upon them and make them do ridiculous things. Dean hopped three times around the room singing the national anthem and Lavender imitated a squirrel—even going so far as to stuff imaginary nuts in her mouth. _Ooh! That's gonna hurt tomorrow! _Hermione winced as Neville performed a series of rather astonishing gymnastic feats that Hermione knew he would never be able to do alone.

So far no one seemed to be able to throw off the curse even a little bit, that was until Harry was beckoned forth. Hermione bit at her lower lip as she watched Moody try to make Harry jump up onto the teacher's desk still sat at the front of the room. Hermione winced again as Harry smashed headlong into the desk before collapsing onto the floor in a bundle of pained limbs and expressions. In his attempt to throw off the curse, the bespectacled boy had kind of jumped onto the edge of the desk before slipping off the edge and banging his head.

"Now _that's _more like it!" Growled Moody approvingly, "Look at that, you lot…Potter fought! He fought it, and damn near beat it! We'll try that again, Potter, and the rest of you pay attention—watch his eyes, that's where you see it—very good, Potter, very good indeed! They'll have trouble controlling _you!"_

* * *

Later, when the trio had arrived in the entrance hall, they found themselves unable able to move thanks to the large throng of students milling about in front of a large sign that had been erected at the foot of the marble staircase. As the tallest of the three, Ron had stood on his tiptoes to read it over the multiple heads blocking their way; reading aloud for the other two to hear.

_TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT_

_The delegations from Beauxbatons Academy and Durmstrang Institute will be arriving at six o'clock on Friday the 30th October. Lessons will end half an hour early._

"Brilliant!" Cheered Harry, "It's Potions last thing on Friday! Snape won't have time to poison us all!"

_Students will return their bags and books to their dormitories and assemble in front of the castle to great out guests before the Welcoming Feast._

"Only one week away!" Buzzed Ernie Macmillian with his eyes gleaming, "I wonder if Cedric knows? Think I'll go tell him…"

"Cedric?" Ron blankly stared at Ernie as the Hufflepuff hurried off.

"Diggory" Supplied Harry, "He must be entering the tournament"

"That idiot, Hogwarts champion?"

"He's not an idiot. You just don't like cause he beat Gryffindor at Quidditch" Defended Hermione as the trio pushed their way through chattering crowd to the staircase, "I've heard he's a really good student—_and _he's a prefect"

"You only like him because he's handsome"

"Excuse me, I don't like people _just _because they're handsome!"

"_Lockhart!" _Ron fake coughed. Hermione not-so-gently shoved him as the trio made their way up to the Gryffindor tower.

* * *

The sudden appearance of the sign in the entrance hall had marked an effect upon the castle's inhabitants that was quite noticeable over the following week. Only one topic seemed to be everyone's focus as the day drew closer; no matter where you went it was always: the Triwizard Tournament.

Rumours were flying around like a virus—who was going to be the Hogwarts' champion, what the tournament would involve, how the two students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang would differ from themselves, how would they even get here?

And much like her mother before a house party, the castle seemed to go through a deep clean. Several recently grimy portraits had been scrubbed, much to the subjects' displeasure who had sat huddled in their frames muttering darkly and wincing at their raw pink faces. The suits of armour were suddenly gleaming and moved without a single squeaking joint, and Argus Filch, the caretaker, was behaving so ferociously to any student who'd forgotten to wipe their shoes that he'd terrified a pair of first-years into hysterics.

Other members of staff had been oddly tense as well, like the usually well-tempered McGonagall, who'd berated Neville one lesson for not performing a switching spell correctly. "Longbottom, kindly do _not _reveal that you can't even perform a simple switching spell in front of the Durmstrang students!" McGonagall had barked at the end of one particularly hard lesson, during which Neville had accidentally transplanted his own ears onto a cactus.

* * *

Arriving at the Great Hall on the morn on Friday 30th October, the students found the Hall to have been decorated over night. Hulking silk banners hung from the walls, each representing one of the houses: red with a golden lion for Gryffindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Up behind the staff table sat the largest banner of all, bearing the Hogwarts coat of arms—the lion, serpent, eagle and badger untied together around a cursive H with the school motto written in Latin beneath.

"…It's a bummer all right" Grumbled George to Fred as the trio seated themselves next to the twins at the squeaky clean Gryffindor table.

"But if he won't talk to us in person, we'll have to send him the letter after all. Or we'll stuff it into his hand. He can't avoid us forever"

"Who's avoiding you?" Ron asked as he sat down.

"Wish you would" Fred replied irritated at the interruption.

"What's a bummer?" Ron turned to George

"Having a nosy git like you for a brother"

"You two got any ideas on the Triwizard Tournament yet?" Harry asked, "Thought any more about trying to enter?"

"I asked McGonagall how the champions are chosen but she wasn't telling" Replied George, "Just told me to shut up and continue transfiguring my racoon"

"Wonder what the tasks'll be?" Ron mused around a forkful of food, "Y'know, I bet we could do them, Harry. We've done dangerous stuff before…"

"Not in front of a panel of judges you haven't…" Said Fred.

"Besides" Interjected Hermione, keeping her eyes trained on the words of _Collars & Cages: Notable Animagi Throughout the Ages _before her, "Even if you somehow _can _get into the tournament, there's _no way _I'm letting either of you two participate in a round-robin of death"

"What are you? My mother?" Ron complained, though Harry appeared relieved at the notion of the olive branch she had produced "And what about you, huh? What's with this sudden interest in Animagi?"

"Yeah, actually why the sudden interest? I haven't seen you this obsessed with something since Lockhart" Harry added.

"Ooh! Her~mi~one and Lock~hart sittin' on broom—" Ron sang mockingly.

"Oh shut up!" Hermione grabbed a fistful of cereal from her bowl and chucked them at Harry & Ron, who laughed at her response (though Ron looked affronted by the _Cherri Owl_ stuck to his eyebrow) "It's not like your crush on Krum's any better, Ron. What was the sonnet you wrote?Vik~tor I lo~ve you! Vik~tor I do! When we're ap~art, my hea~rt beats only for yooou!" Both twins joined in with Hermione as she sang back at Ron's slowly reddening face.

"Oh c'me on, 'Mione! It's not like you're researchin' how to enter the tournament…!" Laughed Harry.

"…Wait, _are_ you…?" Questioned Ron, suddenly serious.

At this, Hermione snapped her book shut and levelled Ron with a deadpanned stare, "Yes Ronald" She drawled sarcastically, "You've finally discovered my secret: I've been researching Animagi and deferring you all from the tournament so I can enter and win the tournament of deathly death"

"I knew it!" Ron pointed at her across the table.

"…Sarcasm is lost on you, isn't it?" Hermione rolled her eyes and went back to her book as she ate, completely ignoring Ron who sat gaping and open-mouthed for a few moments before he replied.

"Yeah? Well, what d'ya know about the tournament, anyway?" Ron sulked with a pout and arms crossed.

_"Well, _if you _must _know" Hermione smirked, "The Heads of the participating schools are always on the panel—"

"Huh?" Murmured George as he, Fred and Harry stared at Hermione with varying looks of surprise. Ron just pouted, but didn't try to change the topic.

"—Because all three of them were injured during the Tournament of 1792, when a cockatrice the champions were supposed to be catching went on a rampage. It's all in _Hogwarts: A History_, you'd know this if you'd actually opened a book and read"

"Pah! What do I wanna do that for when we've got you?" Ron retorted.

An irked Hermione went to fire back a retort but was drowned out by the sudden whooshing of beating wings as the owls arrived with the daily post. Hermione, Harry and Ron all watched Hedwig soar in from the window, following her flight path as she landed upon Harry's shoulder and held out the leg with the letter attached to it.

With Fred and George sucked back into their own conversation, Harry quietly read aloud Sirius' letter to his two best friends.

_Nice try, Harry_

_I'm back in the country and well hidden. I want you to keep me posted on everything that's going on at Hogwarts. Don't use Hedwig, keep changing owls and don't worry about me, just watch out for yourself. Don't forget what I said about your scar._

_—Sirius_

"Why d'you have to keep changing owls?" Ron asked in a low voice.

"Hedwig'll attract too much attention" Hermione replied, matching his tone "She stands out; a snowy owl that keeps returning to wherever he's hiding…I mean they're not native birds, are they?"

"Thanks, Hedwig" Harry tucked away the letter in as he thanked his tired owl who merely hooted and drank from his goblet before taking off for the Owlery.

* * *

A pleasant feeling of anticipation blanketed the castle that day; nobody was particularly attentive in lessons as they were much more interested in the arrival of the international wizarding schools than the information the teachers were trying to cram into their heads.

When the final bell rang half an hour early, Hermione followed Harry and Ron up to Gryffindor tower as they hurriedly deposited their books and bags as instructed, pulled on their cloaks and rushed back down into the entrance hall where they joined the throngs of excitable students.

Just as the staff had been deep cleaning the castle earlier in the week, they now began to nitpick little bits and bobs much like her mother moments before their guests would arrive; as if a wonky hat or an ornamental butterfly hair pin would offend them.

Filing down the large steps, the students lined up in year groups amongst their houses on the front castle steps. Despite the cold and clear evening, the excitable anticipation that buzzed over the students and large billowing cloaks kept them from thinking over the cold weather as they awaited their guests' arrival.

"Nearly six" Ron kept glancing from his watch to the driveway that led to the front gates, "How d'ya reckon they're coming? The train?"

"I doubt it" Hermione replied, her eyes wandering.

"How then? Broomsticks?" Harry suggested staring up at the sky.

"I don't think so…not from that far away…"

"A Portkey?" Ron suggested next, "Or they could Apparate—maybe they're allowed to do out under seventeen wherever they're from?"

"You can't Apparate inside Hogwarts grounds; how many times do I have to tell you that?" Hermione snarked.

The students scanned the darkening environment around them, looking for any trace of something unusual that could constitute their guests' arrival; but nothing was moving, all was quiet and still as per usual.

"Aha!" Dumbledore's voice carried over from the back row where he stood with the other staff, "Unless I'm very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

"Where?" Many students muttered, looking about eagerly as they tried to spot what had caught the Headmaster's attention.

_"There!" _Yelled a sixth year, pointing out towards the forest. Following the witch's finger, Hermione saw something large, much larger than a broomstick—or even a hundred broomsticks—that was hurtling across the deep blue evening sky, headed straight for the castle.

"It's a dragon!" Shrieked one of the hysterical first years.

"Don't be stupid…it's a flying house!" Dennis Creevey retorted.

When the vehicle drew closer, Hermione saw that Dennis' guess was closer. Instead of a flying house as he had suggested, the gigantic black shape skimming over the treetops turned out to be a large powder-blue horse drawn carriage—about the size of three-story house. As it turned out, the giant carriage wasn't the most magical thing about it either, no, that went to the dozen elephant-sized winged palomino horses that were pulling the thing along.

Soaring over the front three rows of students, the carriage came to a controlled crash-landing mere meters from the Hogwarts students, making several students jump back away from the dinner plate-sized hooves that stamped on the ground. The golden horses merely ignored the children, tossing back their huge heads and rolling their fiery red eyes.

A second later when the carriage to met the ground, bouncing on its vast wheels as it too came to a stop. Hermione was able to glimpse the coat of arms (two golden wands crossed over each other and emitting three stars) on the door before it was slung open and a boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage. In a few hurried movements, the boy bent down and fumbling for a moment, unfolded a set of golden steps before he sprang back respectfully.

Hermione barely stopped herself from dropping her jaw in surprise, but couldn't help her eyes blow wide at who appeared from the carriage next. A shining black high-heel emerged first—one about the size of a child's head—followed almost immediately by the tallest woman she had _ever _laid her eyes upon. Around her a few people gasped.

Stepping into the light of the entrance hall, Hermione saw that this woman bore a handsome face upon her olive-skin. With large and black liquid-looking eyes tucked atop her rather beaky nose and framed by her hair which was drawn back into a neat ballerina bun at the base of her neck.

It was Dumbledore who started the applause, soon followed by the staff and students as the tall woman stalked up the path towards the Headmaster. "My dear Madame Maxime" Greeted Dumbledore, "Welcome to Hogwarts"

"Dumbly-dorr" Madame Maxime rumbled, her voice deep and silky, "I 'ope I find you well?"

"In excellent for, I thank you"

"My pupils" Madame Maxime waved one her enormous hands carelessly over her shoulder, drawing all eyes from the tall woman to the carriage behind her.

All eyes trailed back down the path to where the carriage was now spilling forth about a dozen boys and girls in their late teens. All were huddled together, shivering in their flimsy robes that did little to protect them from Scotland's elements and many appeared to be wearing looks of apprehension as they stared up at the castle's hulking exterior.

" 'As Karkaroff arrived yet?" Maxime asked.

"He should be here any moment" Dumbledore reassured, "Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"

"Warm up, I think. But ze 'orses—"

"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his other—er—charges"

"Skrewts" Ron muttered to Harry with a grin.

"My steeds require—er—forceful 'handling" Maxime continued, looking doubtful, "Zey are very strong…"

"I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job" Dumbledore smiled.

"Very well, will you please inform his 'Agrid cat ze 'orses drink only single malt whiskey?"

"It will be attended to"

"Come" Maxime turned to her students, beckoning up the path and through the crowd of Hogwarts' students into the warmth of the Hall.

"How big do you reckon the Durmstrang's horse will be?" Seamus leaned around Lavender and Parvati to ask the trio.

"Well, if they're any bigger than this lot, even Hagrid's gonna have trouble with them" Replied Harry, "That's if he hasn't been attack bu his streets. Wonder what's up with them?"

"Maybe they've escaped?" Ron said hopefully.

"Oh don't say that!" Hermione shuddered, "Imagine those things running wild on the grounds…"

By now, many of the students had begun to shiver and so were huddling as close as they dared to one another—Hermione had chosen to sandwich herself between Harry and Ron, using them as protection against the cold breeze that was starting to pick up. For a few moments, the silence was broken only by the stomping of the palomino's large hooves and their snooty snorting. But then—

"Can you hear something?" Ron perked up suddenly. Hermione stood still, listening closely as a loud and oddly eery noise drifted over towards them from the darkness covering the grounds. A muffled rumbling and sucking sound that reminded her of an immense vacuum cleaner moving along a riverbed.

"The Lake!" Cried Lee Jordan, pointing down towards it, "Look at the Lake!"

From their position at the top of the lawns, the students had a clear view of the smooth surface of the Great Lake, until it was suddenly disturbed by something erupting from the depths. Great big bubbled formed on the surface of the Lake, waves washed over the muddy banks and then out from the very centre a whirlpool appeared, as if someone had pulled the plug out of a bathtub.

"It's a mast!" Harry cried as a long black pole began to slowly rise out of the heart of the whirlpool, followed soon by the magnificent ship that it was attached to. Hermione felt her breath catch as she stared out at the rather skeletal shipwreck floating atop the Lake and gleamed in the moonlight's glow.

Soon people began to disembark from the docked ship, all of them built strong and stocky, but as they drew closer to the castle, Hermione saw that the build of their frames was more due to the large furry cloaks that they wore as opposed to their actual figures. The man who led the procession up the path appeared to be the Headmaster, as he was dressed apart from the students in sleek and silver furs that matched his hair.

"Dumbledore!" The man greeted heartily as he walked up the slope, "How are you my dear fellow? How are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff" Dumbledore replied. Stepping into the light, Hermione saw that the Durmstrang's Headmaster was tall and thin like Dumbledore, but his white hair was trimmed short and his goatee curled inwards, not quite covering his rather weak chin.

"Dear old Hogwarts" Karkaroff stared up at the castle with a yellow-toothed smile that did not extend to his cold and shrewd eyes, "How good it is to be here, how good…Viktor, come along, into the warmth…you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold…" The Durmstrang Headmaster beckoned forth one of his students and as the boy passed, Hermione could've sworn that Ron had swooned when he saw who it was.

"Harry—_it's Krum!"_


	13. And So It Begins

"I don't believe it!" Ron whispered in a voice on awe as the Hogwarts students filed back up the steps behind the Durmstrang party, "Krum, Harry! _Viktor Krum!"_

_"_For Hecate's sake, Ron, he's only a Quidditch player" Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron's fanboying.

_"Only a Quidditch player?!" _Ron spun around, taken aback as though he couldn't believe his ears, "Hermione—he's one of the best Seekers in the world! I had no idea he was still in school!"

"Which is surprising considering how much you _do _know about him. Harbouring a little crush, Ronald?"

"Oh sod _off!"_

As the trio recrossed the entrance hall with the rest of the student body, Hermione noticed several people standing on their tiptoes or jumping up and down in place to get a good look at the star Quidditch player. Off to the side, several sixth-year girls were even frantically searching their pockets as the walked, squabbling over a tube of lipstick as they wondered whether the elder teen would use it to sign an autograph for them.

Walking over to the Gryffindor table, the trio found a place amongst the others, with Ron taking extra care to sit on the side facing the doorway because Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students were still gathered around it, apparently unsure on where to sit. The Beauxbatons students had already claimed a few seats at the Ravenclaw table and were looking around the Hall with glum expressions.

Once everyone had found a seat—the Durmstrang lads having sat amongst the Slytherins, much to Ron's dismay—Dumbledore gathered everyone's attention from where he stood at the front of the Hall. Silence fell as he spoke.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and—most particularly—esteemed guests" Beamed Dumbledore, "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts, I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable—"

At that, one of the Beauxbatons girls clutched onto a periwinkle muffler wrapped around her head and gave what was unmistakably a derisive laugh. "No one's making you stay!" Hermione bristled quietly.

"—The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast" Dumbledore continued, "I now invite you all to eat, drink and make yourselves at home!"

The plates in front of them magically filled with food as per usual, though the kitchens seemed to have outdone themselves as the tables were laden with much more of a variety of cuisines than usual. Hermione's eyes gleamed when she recognised a couple of the dishes from her travels overseas like the large plate of Cassoulet to her left or the large wheel of Banitsa to her right—there was even a small Spanferkel lain out amongst various roasted vegetables a little further down.

Practically licking her chops, Hermione helped herself to the Bratkartoffeln before her as everyone else began to dig in. "What's _that?" _Ron pointed to a large dish of some kind of shellfish stew that stood next to a large steak-and-kidney pudding.

"Bouillabaisse" Hermione supplied as she helped herself to a couple of slices of the Sunday roast.

"Bless you" Replied Ron.

"It's _French" _Replied Hermione, "I had it on holiday the summer before last. It's very nice"

"I'll take your word for it" Ron pushed aside the seafood dish and went straight for the plate of black pudding.

By now the Great Hall seemed to be much more crowded than usual—even with barely twenty more students. _Perhaps it's because their different coloured uniforms stand out so clearly against the black of the Hogwarts' robes. _Hermione mused as she appreciatively trailed her eyes over the Durmstrang lads garbed in form-fitting deep blood red robes—their heavy furs having been removed at some point.

At that moment, Hermione was pulled from her thoughts when a rather foreign feminine voice spoke up. "Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?" Glancing up, Hermione saw that it was the Beauxbatons lass who had laughed during Dumbledore's welcoming speech. Hermione ever-so-gracefully shoved a forkful of Bratkartoffeln into her mouth so that she didn't say something that would get her into trouble.

Running her eyes over the tall girl, Hermione noticed that with her muffler now removed, her long sheet of silvery-blonde hair fell to about her waist. She had large deep blue eyes and very white, even teeth. Next to her, Ron turned a nice shade of purple. Hermione felt the corners of her lips dart upwards at the rather open-mouthed and constipated look that he was giving the girl—especially when the only noise he could muster was a faint gurgling noise.

"Yeah, have it" Harry pushed the dish towards the girl.

"You 'ave finished wiz it?" The girl questioned.

"Yeah" Ron croaked, "Yeah, it was excellent" The girl daintily picked up the dish and carried it carefully off to the Ravenclaw table with Ron still ogling at her as she walked away. He seemed to come back to his senses though when Harry laughed at him.

"She's a _veela!" _Ron declared hoarsely.

"Of course she isn't" Hermione snarked, "I don't see anyone else gaping at her like an idiot!" But of course that wasn't _entirely _true. As the Beauxbatons girl passed by, several heads of the male population and a couple of the female population turned her way, becoming slack-jawed and speechless. And if Hermione were honest with herself, she could see why—it _was _kinda hard to tear her eyes away from the silken fabric as it sashayed away.

"I'm telling you, that's not a normal girl!" Ron leant sideways to keep the retreating girl in sight, "They don't make 'em like that at Hogwarts!"  
"They make 'em alright at Hogwarts" Harry quickly replied, though his eyes were trained on Cho Chang who happened to be sitting only a few places away from the silver-haired witch.

"When you two have stopped eye-fucking the girls—" Hermione rolled her eyes at the two boys who choked at her use of coarse language and mopped up the last of the gravy on her plate with a piece of bread, "—You'll be able see who's just arrived"

The two boys followed her finger up to the staff table where the two remaining seats had been occupied by Ludo Bagman, next to Karkaroff and Barty Crouch, next to Maxime.

"What are _they _doing here?" Harry exclaimed in surprise.

"They organised the Triwizard Tournament, didn't they?" Hermione mused, "I s'pose they wanted to be here to see the start"

With the arrival of the second course, numerous foreign dishes filled the tables once more. Whilst Hermione happily ate her slice of black forest gateau cake, Ron had been inspecting an odd sort of pale blanc-mange rather closely before he pushed it off to the side so that it was in view of the Ravenclaw table, and in turn the silver-haired Beauxbatons girl. The girl appeared to be full however, as she did not come over to retrieve it, much to his dismay.

Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood again. A pleasant sort of tension had filled the room and Hermione buzzed slightly at the shared feeling of anticipation, excitement and wondering at what was coming. Several seats away, Fred and George were leaning forward, staring at Dumbledore with great concentration.

"The time has come" Dumbledore smiled out at the sea of upturned faces, "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket—"

"The what?" Harry muttered. Ron just shrugged and Hermione furrowed her brows in thought.

"—just to clarify the procedure we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce Mr Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation—" There was a smattering of polite applause as Crouch puffed up his chest, but otherwise did not acknowledge the introduction "—and Mr Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports"

This time, a much louder round of applause was heard for Bagman, perhaps due to his previous fame as a Beater, his appearance/involvement in the Quidditch World Cup or simply because he appeared to be a rather jovial and likeable man.

"Mr Crouch and Mr Bagman have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament—" Dumbledore continued, "—and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime on the panel of judges"

At this admission, the attention of the combined student body seemed to sharpen. Dumbledore appeared to have noticed the straightening of spines and the excitable eyes now locked on him as he continued to explain. "The casket, then, if you please, Mr Filch"

Following Dumbledore's sweeping gestures, Hermione watched as Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed off in the far corner of the Hall, now approached Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest that was encrusted with a multitude of shiny jewels. Hermione's interest peaked as she studied the box, not because of what it could possible contain—though that did factor into some of it—but because of how old the weathered chest looked to be.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been decided" Dumbledore explained as Filch carefully laid the chest on the table before him, "And they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. The three tasks will be spaced throughout the school year and will test the champion sin many different ways…their magical prowess, their daring, their ability to cope with danger"

The Hall seemed to hold its breath at the last one; the silence so deafening that you could have heard a Galleon drop onto the cobblestone floor. "As you know, three champions compete in the tournament" Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the participating school. They'll be marked on how well they perform each of the tasks and the champion with the highest total after the third task will be declared the winner of the Triwizard Cup. Our champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the…_Goblet of Fire!"_

Taking out his wand, Dumbledore tapped it thrice upon the tope of the casket and the lid slowly creaked open. He then reached inside and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. _Huh…_Hermione slumped slightly as she gazed up at the rather ordinary cup. It was entirely unremarkable bar from the blue-white flames spewing from the brim of it.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champions must simply write their name and school clearly onto a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet" Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet on top for everyone to see, "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to enter.

Tomorrow night, on All Hallows eve, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged to be the most worthy in representing their schools. The goblet will remain here, in the entrance hall tonight for those wishing to enter. To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation—" Dumbledore's twinkling eyes sought out the Weasley twins amongst others, "I will be drawing an Age Line around the goblet once it has been placed in the hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line"

"What?!"

"That's rubbish!"

"Boo!" Many cries erupted from the crowd—most of them either underage or just slightly out of reach of the age limit.

_"Finally" _Dumbledore continued over the heckling, "I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end or suffer terrible consequences—"

Hermione's brow furrowed further and her stomach sunk at Dumbledore's next words. "—Entering your name into the tournament means that you have constitutes the binding of a magical contract. There can be _no _change of heart once you become champion. You _must_ be _very _sure that you are wholeheartedly prepared to pay the price before you enter yourself" With that warning hanging over their heads, Dumbledore dismissed the students to bed.

"An Age Line!" Fred's eyes glinted as they made their way across the Hall back to the dormitories. "Well, that should be fooled by an Aging Potion, shouldn't it? And once your name's in that goblet, you're off laughing—it can't tell whether you're seventeen or not!"

"But I don't think anyone under seventeen will stand a chance" Hermione replied, "We just haven't learnt enough…"

"Speak for yourself" George said shortly.

"Besides what's this I hear about your sudden interest in Animagi, anyway?" Fred questioned around his brother as George turned to Harry & Ron, following the slow-moving parade out of the Great Hall.

"I don't see what that has to do with anything!" Hermione huffed, a little nervous that so many people knew about her 'interest' in the topic, "Besides it's purely theoretical. Completing a feat of transfiguration of the scale is a massive achievement…only the best of the best can do it right"

"But I thought you were supposed to be the Brightest Witch of her Age?" Fred's eyes glinted, "Wouldn't it be rather simple for someone like you to turn the theoretical into practical?"

"Someone like me?" Hermione retorted as the two passed by a gaggle of students trying to catch a glimpse of the foreign students as they retreated to their various accomodations.

"You know what I mean"

"Yes, but that's entirely besides the point, right Harry?" Hermione turned to where the bespectacled boy should have been, only to see him not there. "Harry?"

Looking around Hermione noticed that many people had stopped by the entrance hall where the Durmstrang students stood gathered around the doorway, preparing to leave for bed. And right there, amidst the finger-pointing and stunned looks stood an awkward Harry and an awestruck Ron. "Oh, verdammt noch mal!" Hermione sighed through her teeth as she stomped back down the stairs and over to the two boys, where they were stuck in the glare of the foreign headmaster and his students. "Excuse us" Hermione nodded to the Bulgarian headmaster as she popped up between the two boys who jumped at her sudden appearance.

"Bloody hell, 'Mione!" Ron exclaimed with pink-tinted cheeks and hand grasping the front of his shirt.

"C'me on! Let's go! You can gawk at them tomorrow!" She snarked as she grasped the two boys by back of their robes and dragged the two back up the stairs. "Ich kann dich nicht zwei Minuten lang alleine lassen!" She muttered under her breath, completely ignoring Ron's comments that they couldn't understand what she was saying.

As she turned, she could've sworn that a couple of the Durmstrang lads wore smirks and grins at the scene playing out before them.

"Geez 'Mione, I can walk by myself!" Ron complained as he was manhandled by the shorter woman, completely forgoing his awe in favour of the embarrassment that he was now experiencing. Harry seemed resigned to his fate and let Hermione drag him along by his collar.

"Apparently not" Hermione huffed, "Besides, Moody's on the warpath"

Glancing up from his somewhat awkward position, Harry was able to watch as Karkaroff paled at the appearance of Moody and a terrible look of fury mingled with fear spread across his face. "You!" Cried Karkaroff, staring at Moody unsure.

"Me" Moody replied grimly, "And unless you've got something else to say, Karkaroff, you might want to move. You're blocking the doorway" Turning the corner, the sight of Moody locking gazes with Karkaoff as they squared off was the last thing that Harry saw as Hermione dragged them up to Gryffindor tower and bed.

* * *

The following morning, Hermione found herself garbed in a red flannel shirt and a pair of denim overalls that were splattered in floral and Muggle stickers and patches. The plain wooden clock on the mantel ticked as she waited for both Ron and Harry to emerge from their dorm room so they could go down to breakfast together. Unlike usual, when most students would be sleeping in on the weekend, this Saturday, most of the students were up and out of bed early; on purpose so they could watch people enter themselves into the tournament.

"Where's Harry?" Hermione asked as Ron eventually trudged down the stairs in rumpled jeans and one of his mother's hand knitted sweaters.

"In bed" Ron yawned, "He won't get up"

"Fine" Hermione sighed, "I'll do it" Tromping up the stairs, Hermione easily navigated her way into the fourth year boys' dorm room where Harry still lay in bed. Unlike the stairs to the female dorms, these stairs stayed perfectly stable as she made her way up. Apparently the Founders had trusted the girls to stay out of the boys' dorms but not the other way around.

Picking her way through the mess that was the boys' dorm, Hermione eventually found herself at the foot of Harry's bed. Despite herself, her lips turned upwards at the image he had painted. As per usual, Harry's untameable hair stuck out at odd angles and his round spectacles lay carefully placed on the bedside table amongst a few empty sweet wrappers.

His patriotic Gryffindor blankets had been strewn across the bed with some laying bunched up at the end and others slipping onto the floor. Clearly Ron had tried to remove his friend's blankets in an effort to get him up, before giving up entirely. But that hadn't deterred Harry, instead, he had curled up into a ball to preserve his heat, and in his arms lay the worn toy dog as it played a variety of acoustic lullabies.

The toy in question had been a birthday gift from Hermione during their second year. It was about the size of a small cat and was a replica of the one she had seen in the photo album Hagrid had given to Harry at the end of first year. Flicking through it, Hermione had noticed it in several shots, however only one had the toy in full view. The picture showed a toddler-sized Harry fast asleep in a snitch-covered onesie and hugging tight to a toy wolf-dog, with one of its ears tucked firmly inside his gummy mouth.

Being new to their friendship and unknowing what to get him, she had decided that she would try her best to replicate it. Of course, her sewing skills weren't that great but as it just so happens, one of the Muggle charities had been doing a fun day at one of the local schools, and it had been here that she had picked up the toy service dog.

Once stripped of the little vest and an enchanted MP3 player placed inside amongst the stuffing, Hermione had wrapped a little red bow around its neck and gifted it to the bespectacled boy. Though Harry had said he was a little old for toys like this, he had still given her his thanks and even now, years later, Hermione knew that it was one of his most treasured possessions—not because of who it came from but what it represented.

As the MP3 player inside the toy flowed into an acoustic guitar version of Bohemian Rhapsody, Hermione mused on why her friend hated this day so much. Infamously, on this day, fourteen years ago, he had lost everything. His parents, his family and future. But more than that,Harry had lost the chance to be big brother.

Harry had told her through snotty tears and tight, clasping hands as she held him that his aunt had let slip during a heated row, that his mother had been pregnant when she died. That his sister (Lily had been far enough along to know the gender) had died on the same night as his parents, not even getting the chance to be birthed.

It was something that she and Harry shared in common—the sibling thing, not the dead parents thing. At the ripe old age of five, Hermione had been told that she was to be an older sister. Hermione had been beyond ecstatic, finally a someone who she could share everything with! A friend that would love her no matter what! She had even picked out names like Enid, Sawyer and Matilda, though these had been shut down pretty much straight away.

On 15 December 1984, Lucas K. Granger had been born at 12am and weighing just over two Kilograms. Unfortunately, as some premature babies are, Lucas was pronounced dead not forty-five minutes later. Hermione hadn't known what had happened at the time, but she knew now and it still hurt all these years later. She wasn't sure if it was something she could ever get over, to be honest.

The sound of Harry snorting in his sleep as he rolled over brought Hermione out of her dark thoughts. Usually, she would let him wallow the day away in his bed unless they had classes to attend, but today they had the choosing of the champions. So blinking back the unshed tears in her eyes, she focused on the task at hand. With the toy dog singing a Disney medley, Hermione wasted no time in grabbing a hold of Harry's ankles and with practised movements began to pry him from the bed.

"Ack!" Harry cried as he awoke to being—quite literally—dragged out of bed and dug his claws into his bedsheets in an attempt to stay swaddled in comfort.

"C'me on…Harry! Time…to get…up!" Hermione grunted as she pulled, slipping slightly on the wooden flooring.

_"No!"_

_"Yes!"_

* * *

Eventually, a rather surly Harry had been extracted from his bed and shoved into a pair of well-worn jeans and a Quidditch sweater before being pushed towards the Great Hall for breakfast with Ron chattering the whole way.

Behind them, someone laughed causing the trio to turn as one and see Fred, George and Lee Jordan excitedly hurrying down the staircase. "Done it!" Fred declared triumphantly whispered to them, "Just taken it"

"What?" Ron asked.

"The Aging Potion, dung-for-brains" Fred snarked.

"One drop each" George explained, "We only need to be a few months older"

"We're going to split the thousand Galleons between the three of us, if one of us wins" Lee grinned.

"That's probably not gonna work" Hermione warned, "I'm sure Dumbledore will have thought of this" Though she was ignored.

"Ready?" Fred quivered in excitement.

"C'mon then, I'll go first"

Despite her warning, Hermione watched with barely hidden interest as Fred pulled out a slip of parchment with his name and school written on it in chicken scratch. Walking right up to the edge of the line, he took in a deep breath before crossing the enchanted line, well-aware of every eye in the room now on him.

For split second it seemed to have worked—George seemed to certainly think so as he leapt after his twin— but the next moment, a loud sizzling sound could be heard and both twins were ejected from the golden circle. They landed painfully on the stone floor with a wheeze, and to add insult in injury, with a loud popping noise, both Weasley boys sprouted identical long silvery-white beards that reached down to their knees with matching fuzzy caterpillar brows.

The entrance hall exploded into laughter with even Fred and George joining in, once they had gotten to their feet and taken a good look and stroke of each other's beards. "I did warn you" Dumbledore smiled, coming out of the Great Hall with a look of great amusement written on his wrinkled face.

He surveyed Fred and George with twinkling eyes, "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She's already tending to Ms Fawcett of Ravenclaw and Mr Summers of Hufflepuff; both of whom decided to age themselves up as well. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything as fine as yours"

Fred and George set off for the Hospital wing with Lee roaring with laughter on their heels; and chortling amongst themselves, Hermione, Harry and Ron made their way inside the Great Hall for breakfast.

As it was Halloween, the decorations of the Great Hall had been changed to show a cloud of bats fluttering around the enchanted ceiling whilst hundreds of carved and glowing pumpkins leered from every corner. Hermione wove her hand through Harry's and gave it a little squeeze in comfort when she noticed that his cheerful expression turned a little sour at the reminder of what day it was. Harry returned the gesture as the two followed after Ron who had made his way over to where Seamus and Dean were excitedly discussing those Hogwarts students of age who might or might not be entering.

"…There's this rumour going around that Warrington got up early and put his name in" Dean told Harry as they sat down, "That big bloke from Slytherin who looks like a sloth"

"We can't have a Slytherin champion!" Harry shook his head in disgust.

"And all the Hufflepuffs are talking about Diggory" Seamus added, leaning over, "But I wouldn't have thought he'd have wanted to risk his good looks"

"Listen!" Hermione suddenly perked up, her attention having drifted from the conversation to the commotion coming through the doors.

It was Angelina Johnson. Coming into the Hall with an embarrassed grin, the tall Chaser came over to them and sat down. "Well, I've done it! Just put my name in!" She declared.

"You're kidding!" Ron looked impressed.

"Are you seventeen, then?" Asked Harry"

" 'Course she is, can't see a beard, can you?"

"I had my birthday last week" Angelina supplied.

"Well, I'm glad someone from Gryffindor's entering" Hermione said, "I really hope you get it, Angelina!"

"Thanks Hermione" Angelina smiled.  
"Yeah, better you than Pretty-Boy Diggory" Seamus muttered. Though a cluster of Hufflepuffs that were passing by scowled heavily at the Irish boy before moving on with eye rolls and huffy snubs.

* * *

Following breakfast, Hermione slipped into the Forbidden Forest when she had followed Harry and Ron down to visit Hagrid's; the two boys had barely noticed when she had stopped at first to remove a (fake) stone from her shoe and then slipped barefoot into the dark woods.

Bare feet padded against the cold, wet mulch and her shoes swung in her hands as the witch made her way towards the enchanted clearing in which she and her coven sisters gathered during the school year. Skirting the borderlines of the centaur territory, Hermione followed a gurgling river as it twisted its way through the overgrown undergrowth.

Taking a right at one of the many groves of Wiggentrees infested with bowtruckles, and then moving beyond the collection of ivy-covered and crumbling tombstones, Hermione soon arrived at the outskirts of the clearing, where the wards sat glittering amongst the hissing Cobra Lilies and tangles of Knotgrass.

Passing through the wards felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped down the back of her shirt on a hot day—cold and surprising at first, but a welcome relief. Within the glamoured clearing, a collection of candlelit and wax-encrusted mason jars sat floating in lazy circles around the canopy, amongst the dancing scraps of coloured fabric.

Several cushion-filled hammocks were hung from some of the trees and a couple of the larger trees had been transfigured into cabinets & enchanted to hide certain items; such as books (mostly obtaining to Hecate) and any items needed for rituals.

Just for the Samhain celebrations, the clearing had been decorated with candle-lit carved pumpkins and orange & black streamers wove in 'n out of the canopy's branches, where they waved back and forth between the scraps of fabric dedicated to Hecate.

In the middle of the clearing sat a large fire pit that was about the size of a blow-up paddling pool and lined with many misshapen stones. Usually, the fire pit would be blanketed in cold ash when not in use, however as today marked the start of Samhain, a bonfire had been lit in the early hours of the morning. The girls had decided to take it in turns to tend to the fire throughout the day, until it came time for the evening's rituals.

After feeding some more logs to the roaring fire, Hermione padded over to the large oak that sat to the left of the clearing. Once there, she tapped the tip of her wand thrice on the bark of the oak's trunk, in a triangular pattern. She barely had to wait a moment before the bark peeled back to reveal the items hidden within.

Most of the shelves were dedicated to jars of varying potion and ritual ingredients that the other girls had collected over the years, but there were other items too. Like the pearl-inlaid athame that sat in its leather sheath when not in use, or the little black pouch of animal bones that Lila sometimes used for séances or even the little pots of homemade paint created from smashed berries and the like. There was even an old ouija board tucked in behind several of the potion ingredients.

Stepping back slightly as she pulled out the bottom drawer. Hermione counted seven misshapen stones about the size of her fist and each decorated with their moniker; that were neatly lined up amongst the straw and moss.

On the left, were the older and more well-worn stones depicting first a grinning cat, then a cute little mouse with enormous ears, and finally the many circles of a raccoon. The newer ones included a howling dog, a puffed-up owl, a playful otter and a perky hare. These stones were mostly used for major festivities such as Samhain or Yule and as such, were usually kept hidden away in this little drawer of the oak tree.

Nodding to herself, Hermione slid the drawer shut and locked up the tree before double checking that all the wards were still in place and that the fire would continue to roar in the meantime. It was dark by the time she had begun her trek back through the Forest and up to the castle, just in time for dinner.

* * *

Meeting up with Harry and Ron at the entrance hall, Hermione soon found that the Great Hall had been lit up by the waxy candles and glowing pumpkins. The Goblet of Fire had also been moved; as it was now stationed in front of Dumbledore's empty chair at the staff table.

"Hope it's Angelina" Said Fred as the trio joined the twins at one of the few spare spaces in the Great Hall.

"So do I" Hermione agreed, "Well, we'll know soon!" She cast a silent and wandless warming charm on her grass-stained feet before she tucked them underneath her.

The Halloween feast seemed to last much longer than usual, perhaps due it being their second feast in two days or because the anticipation in the room was almost palpable. Necks were constantly craning, impatient expressions splattered across many faces and there were even some students who had stood up in their seats to see if Dumbledore had finished eating yet.

Although Hermione had barely picked at the food on her plate, the anticipation she was feeling had less to do with the choosing of the champions for the Triwizard Tournament and more to do with her first proper Samhain celebrations with the coven later that night. Assuming everything went to plan, the girls had planned to sneak out after curfew, under the cover of darkness and traipse down to their clearing where everything had been prepared for them.

At long last, the golden plates were retired to their original spotless state with a sharp upswing in the noise level of the students crowded within the Hall that died almost instantaneously when Dumbledore rose to his feet. On either side of him, Maxime and Karkaroff held themselves as normally as they could, though they still appeared as tense and expectant as everyone else.

Bagman was beaming at everyone and winking at whoever caught his eye as if he already knew who the champions were going to be; as if _he _had been the one to pick them himself. Mr Crouch, however, looked quite uninterested and bored as if he would rather be anywhere else but here.

"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision…" Dumbledore clapped his hands, garnering everyone's attention, "I estimate that it requires only a minute or two more. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them to please come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber—" He indicated to the door behind the staff table, "—where they'll be receiving their first instructions"

Taking out his wand and giving a great swooping wave with it, all the candles in the room suddenly dimmed but left the carved pumpkins alone, creating an eerie atmosphere as the Hall was plunged into semidarkness.

The Goblet of Fire now shone brightly in the darkness, the blue-white flames that were emitted from the rim danced so high in the air that it almost seemed to be too painful to watch them. Hermione bit her lip, shifting in her seat slight as the tension grew around her. People were checking their watches and staring at the dancing flames as they waited impatiently for something to happen.

The flames inside the goblet suddenly burned a deep red as sparks began to fly. In the next moment, a single tongue of flame shot straight up into the air and a single, slightly charred piece of parchment fluttered down from it—the whole room gasped.

Dumbledore nimbly snatches the parchment from the air and held it at arm's length so he could read the name written there, by the light of the gentle blue-white flames. "The champion for Durmstrang is…" His voice was loud and clear as he read, "_Viktor Krum!"_

_"Bravo, Viktor!" _Boomed Karkaroff, his voice clearly heard over the loud applause, "Knew you had it in you!"

"No surprises there!" Ron cheered through the storm of applause that swept over the packed Hall. Hermione's eyes filled Krum as he elegantly rose from the Slytherin table and slouched up to Dumbledore. There he took the charred piece of parchment form the wizened headmaster and headed off towards the door indicated to him.

The clapping and chatter soon died down when the goblet's flames turned red once more, this time spitting out a frilly piece of parchment that was sort of blue in colour. "The champion for Beauxbatons is…" The entire room seemed to hang off of his every word, _"Fleur Delacour!"_

"It's her, Ron!" Harry nudged Ron as the girl who rather resembled a veela gracefully got to her feet and swept up the aisle between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables as if she were dancing.

"Oh, look, they're all disappointed" Hermione could barely contain her grin, nodding towards the remained of the Beaxubatons party where two of the girls had dissolved into tears and were sobbing into their arms.

When Fleur too, disappeared into the side chamber, the Hall fell into silence once more. With two of the three champions already chosen, the All had fallen into stiff excitement that buzzed from witch to wizard like a nosy gnat in summer.

Dumbledore easily snatched the lined parchment from the air when the goblet ejected a third champion. The room seemed to hold its breath as they stared up at the elderly headmaster, completely in the palm of his hand. And he knew it too, as Dumbledore seemed to take great delight in the suspense he held over those around him.

"The Hogwarts champion is…" Dumbledore pause once more, building the suspense and anticipation to its peak, _"Cedric Diggory!"_

"No!" Cried Ron, though no one heard him over the uproar from the table next them as every single Hufflepuff jumped from his or her seats and screamed & stamped their feet as Cedric humbly made his way up to the front of the room, grinning broadly the entire time.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as the tumult at last died down, "Well, we now have our three champions I am sure that I can count upon all of you to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering every champion on, you will contribute in a very real—"

Once more the fire in the goblet burnt a deep red, breaking Dumbledore from his happy speech and he wasn't the only one who had noticed. Sparks were flying wildly and a long flame spewed forth from the hewn goblet, as one more piece of burnt parchment fluttered down from the air.

Automatically, Dumbledore reached out a long gnarled hand and snatched the paper from the air. He held it out and stared at the name through his half-moon glasses with a look of disappointment, concern and a little bit of rage. There was along pause as the Hogwarts headmaster studied the parchment in his grip before he cleared his throat and read out the name written there.

_"Harry Potter"_


	14. Dancing in the Dark

Every head turned to stare at the infamous boy, who in turn appeared to be glue to the bench. Hermione's stomach had sunk at those two words and now she watched as her friend's face flipped through emotions like channels on a TV.

Unlike the choosing of the other champions, there was no applause. Instead the room seemed to buzz like a swarm of angry bees. Students were standing up to get a better look at Harry where he stayed frozen, his eyes wide behind the thick glasses covering them.

Up at the staff table, McGonagall had gotten to her feet and swept past Bagman and Karkaroff to urgently whisper in Dumbledore's ear. "I-I didn't put my name in" Harry said blankly, not sure if he was trying to convince himself or those around him, "You know I didn't"

Back up the front, Dumbledore straighten from where he had bent to listen McGonagall, nodding to the Transfiguration teacher before turning back to the sea of students before him. "Harry Potter! He called again, "Harry! Up here, if you please!"

"Go on" Hermione whispered, nudging Harry to his feet.

All eyes watched him as he stumbled over his feet before he shuffled up the aisle between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables, doing his very best to hide inside the collar of his shirt. Time seemed to stretch on as the buzzing grew stronger. "Well…through the door, Harry" Dumbledore stiffly handed the piece of parchment to Harry who reluctantly took it and shuffled off to the side chamber.

Hermione's beady eyes watched Harry's figure disappear from view as he ventured into the chamber beyond. No sooner had the door closed, did the Hall erupt into chaos. Students let out cries of disgust. How was the famous _Harry Potter_ be allowed to enter into the Triwizard Tournament and not them? He was nowhere near seventeen, nor had he even admitted to putting his name in.

Across from her, Ron's face had turned an ugly sour expression and his cheeks had turned a frightening purplish-red in his frustration. If Hermione listened closely, she could hear the quiet and hurried mutterings of how Harry had entered without telling him how. Every now and then, he would send glares in Hermione's direction as if she had anything to do with this.

And throughout it all, Hermione sat helplessly watching as her housemates and friends turned against the bespectacled boy, all because he had somehow conquered the enchanted Age Line, gotten his name into the Goblet of Fire without _anyone's _knowledge and been chosen as the fourth champion of the Triwizard Tournament. _So much for that peaceful year! _

* * *

Much later, Hermione and Victoria were snuggled up between the saggy cushions of the love seat in the Gryffindor common room. Both girls had dressed in their sleepwear and had stuffed their cloaks between them as they waited for the others in the common room to disappear. Where Victoria had opted for a victorian-style nightgown, that flowed around her figure in layers of sheer pearl material and frills; Hermione had gone for a more modern nightgown.

In comparison to Victoria's nightgown, Hermione's own nightgown practically screamed 'scandalous!', It was a silken baby pink in colour with two simple spaghetti straps placed atop her shoulders. Both the hem and sweetheart neckline were lined with lacy white flowers that extended the length of the nightgown just that little bit, landing at around mid-thigh.

The two girls had easily commandeered the chair in front of the fireplace that night, as most of the younger students had headed up to bed almost straight away, leaving the others to impatiently wait around for Harry's return. Many paced back and forth, commenting about how the _hell _Harry had been able to pull it off.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione could see Ron just sinking deeper and deeper into jealously and frustration, something that worried her but she still didn't want to touch with a ten foot pole. Instead, she selfishly nursed her _Doctor Who_ mug of hot coffee, that was spiked with just a hint of chocolate liqueur taken from Victoria's secret stash. The matching TARDIS kettle sat next to her feet, still leaking steam as it cooled and beyond that, the fire danced hypnotically around the logs in the fireplace.

The sound of the portrait door swinging open and banging against the wall outside, brought Hermione out of her back to reality as her housemates pounced on Harry the moment he stepped inside. Peering over her shoulder, Hermione watched as he was wrenched inside by a dozen or so people before being shoved to the front of the room, where he was presented to those still awake.

Shouts, screams, whistles and applause sounded from the group gathered and Hermione could see that Harry appeared to overwhelmed at all the attention he was receiving—no doubt, wanting to just go to bed and forget the whole thing.

"You should've told us you'd entered!" Bellowed Fred, looking both annoyed and impressed at the same time.

"How did you do it without getting a beard? Brilliant!" Roared George.

"I didn't…" Harry murmured, though no one seemed to be listening, "I don't know how—"

"Oh if it couldn't be me, at least it's a Gryffindor—" Angelina swooped in next.

"You'll be able to pay back Diggory for that last Quidditch match, Harry!" Shrined Katie Bell, another of the Gryffindor Chasers.

"We've got food, Harry, come and have some—"

"I'm not hungry, I had enough at the feast—"

Hermione watched with growing anticipation as Harry's face contorted into barely controlled frustration. No one seemed to be listening to him and it had been a long day—he didn't enjoy Halloween on the best of days. Hermione silently wondered how long it would take for him to burst. Butterbeer and crisps were shoved into his hands, people peppered him with questions as they crowded in on the young teen, demanding answers no matter how many times he said he didn't do it. "Think we should help him?" Victoria asked, following Hermione's gaze as the two girls watched Harry over the back of the couch.

"I'm tired!" Harry finally bellowed, "No, seriously, George—I'm going to bed—"

"He seems to have it handled" Hermione dismissed as Harry eventually escaped up the stairs to his dormitory only half and hour after having arrived.

"Do you think he did it, Mia?" Victoria asked as the two witches turned back to face the dying fire. By now, the kind-of party was still going, though it seemed to have stuttered for a bit when the man-of-the-hour had retreated upstairs; leaving many unanswered questions and upset people behind him.

"I dunno—" Hermione shrugged and she really didn't. Usually Harry was pretty easy to read—he was outspoken and hard-headed which is probably why he got on so well with Ron. That was to say, despite her best efforts, a bitter feeling curled up in her gut when she thought about it. _I just wanted one year—one year!—where we weren't threatened with death or Voldemort or some kind of dangerous conspiracy involving Harry and a dark wizard! Is that too much to ask for? _

"—On one hand, Harry's got a hero complex the size of Hogwarts" Hermione sipped from her mug, "But on the other…well, you've seen how he get's 'round Halloween. Most times, I have to drag him outta bed for stuff like this. There's _no way _he would've done this on his own"

"But what if he had someone else help him?" Victoria asked.

"Like who?"

"I dunno; but just say that he did…"

"…I s'pose _if _he had some help—I mean, _I _certainly wasn't approached and, I mean, he barely knows more than two DADA spells…"

"So maybe someone outside of Gryffindor? A 'Claw, maybe? 'Asn't he been ogling that Chang girl recently?"

"You mean Cho Chang? Maybe, I guess…I just—I dunno. We could always ask Luna, I s'pose" And oh! How Hermione hated not knowing!

"Yeah, I guess"

When the spiked coffee in the kettle had dwindled down to its last little dregs, Hermione and Victoria had finally been left alone in the common room. With the clock on the mantel place ticking closer to early morning, the two witches donned their cloaks and disappeared into the night.

* * *

"There you two are!" Lila cheered upon noticing the two, "Thought you'd forgotten about us, for a moment!"

"What? Forget this?" Victoria replied mockingly offended, "Never!" The bonfire was roaring in its pit when Hermione & Victoria arrived at the clearing and Luna was helping to set out the many jars of homemade paint for the girls to use. Each jar was enchanted so that they floated listlessly in the air like one of the candles, when not in the tree cabinet and separated into three sections: plants, animals and minerals.

Moving closer to the plant-based group, Hermione saw that many of the jars were labelled in looping scrawl. There was ruby reds created from _'Madder'_ and blues created from _'Crushed Woad Leaves'_. There were several jars of _'Sumac'_ that ranged in colour from beige to yellow to burgundy to black. A vibrant pink was labelled as '_Pickled Beets_' and another that held the pale blue dye made from _'Blueberries'_. Two more jars held the yellow and red dyes of the _'Safflower'._

Next was the mineral-based paints. These jars held a variety of earthen colours and Emilia had mentioned on one occasion, that many of these ones had been roasted to get a richer colour in the process. The first jar held red-yellow paint that was made from the ore of iron found in ochre; next came the rich earthly red jar and creamy brown jar which was made from sienna—a limonite clay originally.

The series of blue jars that came next were rather small and hardly looked to used, though this was most likely due to what the paints were created from. First was the royal blue azurite, then came the cobalt blue and finally the ultramarine blue which was obtained from crushing the lapis lazuli gem. Another series of small jars contained more gemstone-based paints that varied in shades of yellow, orange, turquoise and blue—each of these were labelled as _'Spinel-based'_

And finally the last, and smallest group was the paints using animal bases. First up, was the red paint that came from the crushed cochineal insects who like to inhabit cacti plants. Next there was the jars that contained the reds that bordered on purple-red and crimson red, these ones were made from the blood of Kermes insects and were labelled as _'Carmine'._ And last but not least, the jar of royal purple paint was made from murex, predatory sea snails, and labelled as _'Tyrian Purple'_

Sophie had explained earlier that in accordance with the Samhain traditions, the girls would use the paints to 'dress in costumes' so to speak, however instead of conventional costumes, they would use them to paint each other's monikers onto their nude bodies. Whilst the paints were being set out, Lila moved around the clearing as she placed curls of burning incense and swaddles of sage in little nooks and crannies around the clearing, filling it with the scent of burnt herbs.

"Hey Mia, come give me a hand!" Charlotte called from off to the side where she stood leering over a makeshift table laden with all manner of stereotypical witchy items. From the pearl-inlaid athame to the well-worn bubbling cauldron to the pouch of engraved bones and hand-drawn tarot cards.

"What do you need?" Hermione asked, making her way over to the Hufflepuff.

"Can you pass me the absin?" Charlotte gestured towards the tall green bottle of alcohol off towards her right.

"You mean the absinthe?" Hermione spun the bottle around so the label faced Charlotte.

"Yeah, that" Charlotte nodded.

"What do you need absinthe for?" Hermione tilted her head in question. "Isn't this Muggle booze?"

"Oh! That's right you weren't here last year, were you?" Charlotte perked up, as if she had just remembered.

"Uh-uh" Hermione shook her head.

"Well, to answer your questions: yes it is Muggle booze, but it's also part of the Spirporta potion. The veil between the physical world and the spiritual world is at its weakest on Samhain, y'know, and this potion helps us to see those wandering souls better"

"Like how Seers use tea leaves?"

"More like when they hallucinatory ingest fumes"

"Oh" Hermione's brow furrowed in thought.

"It's not harmful or anything, if that's what you're thinking" Charlotte jumped in when she saw the look on Hermione's face. "Just opens stubborn minds to other things" She shared a grin with the short brunette as she playfully bumped her hip against Hermione's.

* * *

"Well, c'me on! Take it off!" Charlotte gestured her wet paintbrush towards Hermione who was the only one still dressed in her nightgown.

"I dunno…" Hermione trailed off, her eyes showing how nervous she really was despite her best efforts. In theory, this sounded like something so simple, just stripping down to her birthday suit amongst like-minded women who were doing the same. But in reality…it was a whole other story.

"C'me on, Mia! I can't paint on a covered canvas! C'me on! Where's that Gryffindor courage?" Charlotte encouraged as Hermione's eyes drifted over the clearing for a moment where she was able to see the others already getting their paint jobs done—even Luna had jumped right in.

Even in the well-lit clearing, the waning moonlight still reached its beams down to the forest floor, and bounced off of the curves and slopes of the girls around her. From the milky pale skin of Luna's curved back to the perky slope of Victoria's chocolate-skinned breasts. Down Lila's voluptuous thighs and over Emilia's fair-skinned cheeks; Sophie was bathed in the moonlight that highlighted her freckled shoulders and even Charlotte's wandering hands gleamed in the moonlight.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Hermione slowly began to undress. Kicking her jandals off to the side where they landed amongst the other girls' things; she then moved onto her cloak. Shaky fingers worked at the top couple of buttons that had been done up as she tried to still her wildly beating heart. Though she took her time in neatly folding up the large cloak and setting it atop her shoes, the Gryffindor still couldn't seem to remove the nightgown from her body as she clung to the spaghetti straps in trepidation.

As if sensing this, Charlotte tucked the paintbrush behind her ear, mindless of the paint getting into her hair and moved forward to place both of her hands on Hermione's shoulders. "C'me 'ere" Charlotte spoke softly as she gently hooked her fingers underneath the straps and slowly slid them out from Hermione's grip, "Like this"

Ever so carefully, Charlotte tugged the silken nightgown down Hermione's body as if she were made of glass. When that item pooled at her feet, she waited for the younger witch to step out of it before it was folded up and placed with her other things. Hermione could've melted right there and then at the look of genuine care that Charlotte gave to her before she rose from the ground.

Hermione felt a shiver run up her spine as Charlotte ran a manicured nail up her leg until she reached the hem of her high-waisted knickers. Again, those wandering fingers tucked themselves beneath the unwanted fabric and gently tugged them downwards, leaving Hermione naked in the middle of the forest.

She bit her lower lip when Charlotte pressed in close—so, _so _close—until they were almost the same person.A gentle kiss, no more than a whisper, was placed on the junction between Hermione's neck, just below her chin where her heartbeat was pounding away. _Oh Hecate! Please! _

A quiet whimper escaped from Hermione's lips when Charlotte pulled back, replacing her lips with the cool wet paint on her brush. "There'll be more time for that later" Charlotte whispered, her voice husky with barely contained lust as her eyes carefully followed the smooth strokes of the paintbrush in and out of the crevices on the Gryffindor's figure; ignoring the pleading eyes of said witch.

Hermione's eyes fluttered shut as the cold wet paint met her sizzling skin and a quiet breathy moan fell from her lips as heat began to pool within her. The sensual strokes of the paintbrush barely touched her face—save for the quick slashes down her chin which created the image of deadly-looking fangs.

Instead, they moved down her body like whispers of promise; the paint dripped down the valley of her breasts and between her sharp shoulder blades in harsh swooping lines. _Oh yes! _Hermione moaned quietly when the paintbrush followed the same path that Charlotte's nail had created not moments earlier, surrounding her legs in earth-cracking black. She wasn't sure how she could love someone's hands so much—the gentleness in which they caressed her, turning her this way and that…it was a wonder she hadn't left a puddle on the floor already.

All too soon however, it seemed to come to an end. Hermione's eyes fluttered open once more to reveal a proud Charlotte who had stepped back to admire her masterpiece—hot and heavy though she was. "Right, my turn" Charlotte purred, handing the paint and brush over to Hermione who received them with shaky hands.

Absentmindedly, she noticed that the others seemed to be in similar situations. The sexual tension that blanketed the air was almost palpable, and Hermione would be lying if she said she didn't like it. Oh so close, and yet so far—wanting to touch, to caress, to claim their partner(s), and yet only just holding back with the importance of traditions in mind and the promise of pure bliss later on.

Dipping the bristled brush into the pot of spinel orange paint, Hermione carefully began to paint rings around Charlotte's body. Standing on her tiptoes, Hermione painted looping rings of orange over her brows, around her cheekbones and across the bridge of her button nose, creating a mask that resembled the moniker tattoos that the witch usually wore during the full moon.

Hermione felt Charlotte tremble beneath her soft fingers as the paint ran down her neck and over her sloping breasts in twisting and turning swirls, that framed the Triple Goddess tattoo in the valley between them. Hermione felt hypnotised as she watched the paint wrap itself around the Hufflepuff's toned legs in an earthier ochre. It was almost like the paintbrush had a mind of its own.

"All done" Hermione breathed stepping back from Charlotte, who looked almost disappointed that it was over.

"Right…" Charlotte breathed "C'me on", linking her hand with Hermione before she tucked the paintbrush into a nearby floating jar and led the younger witch over to where the others stood next to the roaring bonfire, all covered in paint and looking at each other with the same barely contained lust in their wandering eyes.

" 'Ere you go" Charlotte gifted Hermione with her stone emblazoned with the otter and directed her over to the point on the septigram surrounding the bonfire.

Standing in between Luna and Sophie, Hermione placed her stone at her feet and stared into the orange and yellows of the dancing bonfire before them. Apart from the painted stones at their feet, a couple of Lila's engraved bones were dotted amongst the ashen dirt as well as a couple of rune-covered stones that lined the spaces between each girl.

The forest seemed to fall into a whispering hush as Lila spoke, her arms spread wide and eyes turned to the waning moon shining in the sky, high above. _"Quiet is the night, dark is the Moon. We ask Hecate, the Crone to take her throne. Rise, sisters, rise! Be not alarmed for the Great Goddess keeps you from harm…"_

Here she sliced the pearl athame across her left palm, licking the blood from the blade before passing it off to Victoria on the right, who did the same in turn. Passing the athame around the circle, each girl sliced themselves, wincing at the quick pain and allowing the blood to drip freely from the cut as they licked the collected blood from the blade before passing it on.

_"…Quiet is the night…"_ Lila continued as the magical energies around them began to rise like a heatwave in summer. Next came the Spirporta potion. The watery potion slid down her throat like water over rocks, but that need not matter, for the needy feeling that hit Hermione soon after was one she couldn't describe—not even if she had a week to do it or ten feet of parchment.

_"…Dark is the Moon. We ask Hecate the Maiden to take her throne. Rise, brothers, rise! Be not alarmed for the Great Goddess holds you in her arms…"_

As if answering her call, ghostly figures began to fade into view all around them. Some were dressed in Victorian dresses that were cinched tightly at the waist, showing off their translucent figures whilst others wore medieval bonnets and pinafores that kept them clean from the non-existent dirt.

_"…Quiet is the night, dark is the Moon. We ask Hecate, the Mother to take her throne. Rise, magics, rise! Be not alarmed for the Great Goddess will show you the way…"_

There were many of them now, layers upon layers of witches and wizards crowded in the small clearing and all of them praying to the Triple Goddess. Raising (what remained of their arms) in sync with the living witches in the clearing, the ghostly community pushed forth their residual magics, some mouthing along silently to the prayer.

_"…Quiet is the night, dark is the Moon. We honour Hecate, the Triple Goddess who has taken her throne!" _

By this point, Hermione could practically _feel _the magic surrounding her, like it was a beating pulsing heart. It almost felt like an out-of-body experience as she watched her body sway and dance in time with music she wasn't quite sure was really playing.

_"You were the Witch at the beginning_

_One With Zeus the God Most High_

_Your hidden Glory in creation,_

_Now revealed in You our Goddess_

_What a beautiful Name it is_

_What a beautiful Name it is_

_The Name of Hecate, my Mother_

_What a beautiful Name it is_

_Nothing compares to this_

_What a beautiful Name it is_

_The Name of Hecate_

The words spilt from Hermione's lips like she had known them all her life. Twisting and twirling around the septigram in time with the other girls, Hermione danced freely, feeling the heat of the bonfire licking at her skin.

_You didn't want the heavens without us_

_So Hecate, You brought the heavens down_

_My sin was great, Your love was greater_

_What could separate us now?_

_What a wonderful Name it is_

_What a wonderful Name it is_

_The Name of Hecate, my Maiden_

_What a wonderful Name it is_

_Nothing compares to this_

_What a wonderful Name it is_

_The Name of Hecate_

_What a wonderful Name it is_

_The Name of Hecate_

As she danced around the fire, Hermione caught glimpses of the ghosts doing the same. Many had joined hands and were dancing in rings around them, like children playing Ring-a-Ring-a-Rosie.

_How sweet your name, Goddess, how good You are_

_Love to sing in the name of the Goddess, love to sing for you all_

_Death could not hold You, the veil tore before You_

_You silenced the boast, of sin and grave_

_The heavens are roaring, the praise of Your glory_

_For You, I raised to life again_

_You have no rival, You have no equal_

_Now and forever, Our Triple Goddess reigns_

_Yours is the Kingdom, Yours is the glory_

_Yours is the Name, above all names!_

Here, the clearing seemed to roar with the pulsing of magic and the volume of voices singing together. Generations of witches and wizards joined together in this one act, an act Hermione was glad to be a part of, sharing this ecstasy with so many others.

_What a powerful Name it is_

_What a powerful Name it is_

_The Name of Hecate, my Crone_

_What a powerful Name it is_

_Nothing can stand against_

_What a powerful Name it is_

_The Name of Hecate_

_You have no rival, You have no equal_

_Now and forever, Our Goddess reigns_

_Yours is the Kingdom, Yours is the glory_

_Yours is the Name, above all names!_

Hermione could honestly say she had never known power like this before; drunk on the power that surged and flowed around her and _through _her like it was meant to be there. With hair and body crackling with glorious magic, she cackled care-free, both thanking and praising the wonderful Goddess who looked down upon them with care and grace.

_What a powerful Name it is_

_What a powerful Name it is_

_The Name of Hecate, my Goddess_

_What a powerful Name it is_

_Nothing can stand against_

_What a powerful Name it is_

_The Name of Hecate_

_What a powerful Name it is_

_The Name of Hecate_

_What a powerful Name it is_

_The Name of Hecate!"_


	15. Walks & Talks

The following morning—or more precisely later that morning—Hermione awoke with a hungover feeling, that she could only recognise from the time she had mistakenly drunken her mother's vodka instead of the lemonade she thought it was. Rolling from bed later than she usually would, but still earlier than Lavender and Parvati, she headed to the bathroom, intent on soaking the shower for as long as possible.

It was only once the her fingers had turned to wrinkly prunes did Hermione reluctantly pull herself from the rhythmic beads of water beating down upon her pounding head. In a fit of laziness, she exchanged her nightgown for a slightly rumpled loud floral blouse (taken from her mother's wardrobe) that she tucked into the waistband of her school skirt.

No sooner had sheet foot in the common room, did Victoria pounce on her looking far more alert than she ought to be. "Here, drink this" A goblet of bubbling potion was shoved into Hermione's hands and the familiar scent of a Hungover potion met her nostrils (it was like a cross between the Wiggenweld potion and a Pepper-up potion). Without a second thought, Hermione knocked back the viscous concoction, pulling a face as it went down her throat.

"Thanks" Hermione winced, handing the empty goblet back to Victoria as the two headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

"No problem" Victoria grinned, "I remember my first Samhain, couldn't sleep for a week afterwards! It was great!"

"Something to look forward to, then?" The two witches shared a grin as they passed by a rather disgruntled Ron on the love seat; who made it his mission to ignore them (and Harry, if the hour he'd awoken was anything to go by) on their way out of the portrait hole.

"Oh! Speaking of looking forward! How's your Animagi training going?"

"Well the mandrake bit's over so that's great—" Hermione smiled, scrunching up her face in disgust at the memory of the curs'd leaf.

"Yeah, I hated that bit too!" Victoria laughed.

"—But, uh, I've been craving seafood a lot more than usual, lately. So I'm thinking some kind of piscivore?"

"Oh really? That's new" Victoria murmured, "The closest we already have to that, might be Ches or 'Medes…"

"What about Luna?"

"Uh, Luna's already a bit…"

"Odd?"

"I was gonna say free-spirited—! So it's a little harder for her, but she says she's taken quite a likening to carrots and lettuce lately, so maybe…?"

"What, are you thinking like a bunny or something?"

"Maybe, like I said, we still don't know"

"Oh well, at least she has some idea"

"Yeah, at least there's that"

* * *

Following a hearty breakfast of any and all hangover foods that Hermione could stomach, she wandered back up to the common room with several slices of toast in hand. Having seen Ron alone at breakfast was odd, usually he and Harry were joined at the hip—not that she was jealous of them or anything! And so she had resolutely ignored the morning's conversations which all revolved around one thing—Harry's entrance into the tournament—and the darkening of Ron's sour face as he glowered at his eggs and bacon; she had an idea of where Harry was.

Padding up the moving staircases, Hermione opened her mouth to give the password when she had to jump out of the way as the portrait door swung open to reveal a bleary-eyed Harry. "Hello" Hermione greeted holding up the stack of toast in her hands, "I brought you some toast…wanna go for a walk?"

"Good idea" Harry gratefully agreed.

They went downstairs, crossed the entrance hall and quickly strode down across the lawn towards the Great Lake where the Durmstrang ship was moored, without sparing a glance towards the Great Hall. Hermione cursed herself for not wearing tights on this chilly morning as the two munched on their toast and Harry told her what was on his mind.

"…Well _of course _I knew you hadn't entered yourself" Said Hermione when he had finished his story about the chamber off of the Hall, "I mean you've got a _massive _hero complex—don't deny it—" Hermione snarked at Harry's look of offence, "—But the look on you face when Dumbledore read out your name! Anyway the real question is, who _did _put it in? Because Moody's right, y'know…I don't think any student could've done it…they'd never be able to fool the Goblet, or get over Dumbledore's—"

"Have you seen Ron?" Harry interrupted. Hermione hesitated, a little annoyed at the interruption, but unsure of how to answer.

"Erm…yes…he was at breakfast" She said.

"Does he still think I entered myself?" Harry persisted.

"Well…no, I don't think so…not _really"_

"What's that s'posed to mean, 'not _really'?"_

"Oh Harry, isn't it obvious?" Hermione despaired, "He's jealous!"

_"Jealous?!" _Harry repeated incredulously, "Jealous of what? He wants to make a complete prat of himself in front fo the whole school, does he?"

"Look" Hermione stopped in front of Harry, cutting him off from going any further, "It's always you who gets all the attention, you know it is. And I know it's not your fault—" She added quickly seeing Harry furiously open his mouth to snap a retort, "—I know you don't ask for it…but—well—y'know, Ron's got all those siblings to compete with at home, and you're his best friend, and you're really famous—he's always shunted to one side whenever people see you, and he puts up with it, and he never mentions it, but I s'pose this was just one too many…" She rambled.

"Great" Said Harry bitterly, "Really great. Tell 'im from me, I'll swap any time he wants. Tell 'im he's welcome to it…People gawping everywhere I go…"

_"I'm _not telling him anything" Hermione replied shortly, crossing her arms, "Tell him yourself; it's the only way to sort this all out"

_"I'm _not running around after him trying to make him grow up!" Harry retorted loudly, scaring off several owls from a nearby tree, "Maybe he'll believe I'm not enjoying myself once I've got my neck broken or—"

"That's not funny" Hermione interjected disapprovingly, "That's not funny at all. Harry, I've been thinking—you know what we've got to do, don't you? Straight away, the moment we get back to the castle?"

"Yeah, give Ron a good kick up the—"

_"Write to Sirius. _You've gotta tell him what's happened—he asked you to keep him updated…It's almost like he expected this was going to happen…"

"Come off it" Harry glanced around to check that they weren't being overheard, but the grounds were quite deserted, "He came back to the country just because my scar twinged. He'll probably come bursting right into the castle if I tell 'im someone's entered me in the Triwizard Tournament—"

_"Either you tell him or I will" _Hermione replied sternly, "He's gonna find out anyway—"

"How?"

"Harry, this isn't going to be kept quiet. This tournament's famous, and you're famous. I'd be really surprised if there isn't already anything in the _Daily Prophet _about it…" She sighed, running a hand through her loose curls, "…You're already in half the books about You-Know-Who, y'know…and Sirius would rather hear it from you, I know he would"

"Okay, okay! I'll write to him!" Harry conceded throwing this last piece of toast into the lake. Both friends stood their for a moment as they watched the blackened piece of bread bob and float on the surface of the lake, before a large tentacle rose from the depths and snatched it from the surface.

"Whose owl am I going to use, anyway?" Harry questioned as they climbed the stairs to the Owlery, "He told me not to use Hedwig again"

"Ask Ron if you can borrow—" Hermione half-heartedly suggested.

"I'm not asking Ron for anything" Harry interrupted flatly.

"Well, borrow one the school owls then, anyone can use them" She replied handing Harry a piece of parchment and a Quill that she pulled from the little drawstring pouch that she always seemed to carry with her nowadays.

It only took a moment or two for Harry to scribble down what he wanted to say."Finished" Harry announced, looking around for a school owl to use. At this, Hedwig swooped down and landed on his shoulder, sticking out a leg for him to tie the letter to.

"I can't use you" Harry told her, "I've got to use one of the school owls…" Hedwig gave a very loud and snooty hoot before taking off so suddenly that her talons pierced his shoulder. Hermione had to hide her laugh as a couch as she watched Hedwig give Harry the cold shoulder the entire time he was tying his letter to a large barn owl—especially when she clicked her beak furiously at him and made for the rafters. "First Ron, then you" Harry bit out angrily, "_This isn't my fault!"_

* * *

The days following the choosing ceremony, were probably the most hellish that Hermione had to injure—not because she was the subject of all the tormenting, but because she was always moving back and forth between Harry and Ron like two siblings fighting over their favourite toy. In the end, it all accumulated one afternoon when they were due to have double Potions with the Slytherins.

Following lunch, the snakes in question were waiting outside the classroom with each of them sporting bright red badges on their robes; their luminous catchphrase glowing brightly in the dimly-lit underground passageway:

_SUPPORT __CEDRIC DIGGORY__—THE __REAL__ HOGWARTS CHAMPION!_

"Like them, Potter?" Malfoy crowed loudly as Harry approached "And this isn't all they do—look!" He pressed the badge into his chest and the message was wiped clean, replaced with another that glowed green:

_POTTER STINKS!_

"Oh _very _funny" Hermione sassed Pansy Parkinson and her gaggles of Slytherin girls, who were laughing harder than anyone else, "Really _witty" _Off to the side, Ron stood against the wall with Seamus and Dean. He wasn't laughing but he wasn't standing up against the snakes either.

"Want one, Granger?" Malfoy held out a badge to her, "I've got loads. But don't touch my hand, now. I've just washed it, you see; don't want a Mudblood sliming it up"

_"Mudblood? _Really? Is that the best you can do? What happened to Schlammhure or Fotze, hm?" Hermione narrowed her eyes at the blonde, fearlessly stepping in front of Harry when he reached for his wand.

All around them, people scrambled out of the way and backed down the corridor as Harry skirted Hermione with his wand in a vice-like grip and murder on his face. "Go on then, Potter" Malfoy almost seemed to falter at the foreign words thrown back in his face, though he quickly took the olive branch that Harry had unknowingly handed to him. "Moody's not here to look after you now—do it, if you've got the guts—"

_"Harry!" _Hermione warned as the two boys met each other's gaze, almost daring the other to break first. And then, at the exact same time, they acted in unison. _"Furnunculus!" _Harry yelled.

_"Densaugeo!" _Screamed Malfoy.

Two jets of light shot out from both wands, connecting in mid-air and riccoheting off at different angles—Harry's hit Goyle in the face who bellowed and clutched his nose where great, big ugly boils were starting to spring up. Malfoy's hit Hermione in turn, and she clasped onto her mouth with a whimper.

Blinking rapidly against the bright flash of the spell that had hit her square in the face, Hermione barely registered the pain of her ever-growing buck teeth as she turned on Malfoy once more. This time she held no qualms about giving him his just-desserts when she fired back a wandless _"Migalifors!" _in retaliation.

Just as Hermione and Goyle had done, Malfoy clutched onto his face which had begun to elongate and transform, taking on several ferret-like features. _Serves you right, you bastard! _Hermione glared over Ron's shoulder (who had hurried over to see what had happened to her after the spell had connected).

"And what is all this noise about?" Said the soft and deadly voice of Severus Snape as he arrived. Several Slytherins clamoured to give their explanations, though Snape pointed a long and yellow finger at Malfoy. "Explain"

"Potter attacked me sir—" Malfoy lied meekly.

"We attacked each other at the same time!" Harry interjected.

"—and he hit Goyle—look—" Snape inspected Goyle's boil-covered face before sending him and Malfoy off to the hospital wing.

"Malfoy got Hermione!" Ron added, _"Look!"_

Ron forced Hermione to show Snape her teeth—she had been doing her best to hide them behind her hands, though it had become difficult as they had grown down past her collar and had induced the Slytherins in silent fits of giggles. "I see no difference" Snape remarked coldly. Hermione glared her murderous intent at the potions master, trying her best to ignore the tears of frustration that had bloomed in the corner of her eyes, before she spun on her heel and raced off towards the Hospital wing, forever thankful of Harry and Ron's immediate defence.


	16. Krum or Potter

**_November 1995_**

Over the following weeks, Hermione found herself with a bespectacled shadow more and more as the days grew closer to the first task. She wasn't annoyed with Harry per-se, but with most of her free time now occupied by another person, well, it made it hard for her to slip off to places she would rather be. At one point, she had even hidden away in her pouch for hours on end, just to escape it all.

Like today; she _had _wanted to spend her free period in the woods, amongst the trees and away from all this dramatic bullshit that clung to the angsty students like mosquitos in summer. Instead, she had to keep her word and stick to the Library. Which, y'know, _usually _wouldn't be a problem (somedays she practically lived there), if it weren't for the loud chittering girls who flittered between the towering bookshelves in flocks of giggles and crimson blushes, as they hunted their most treasured prize: Viktor Krum.

"C'me on, Crooks" Hermione rolled her eyes at a particularly loud squeal, that escaped from a fourth year Ravenclaw who quickly slapped a hand over her mouth when Madam Pince scolded her, and several heads snapped in her direction as if _they _were any stealthier.

Abandoning Harry at their table and leaving him to the mercies of his latest essay, Hermione trudged further into the library where she eventually found herself lost amongst the books, away from all the (recently arrived) chaos in the rarely used Muggle section. Madam Pince may have been a Pureblood, but she'd been quoted on many an occasion stating that she'd be "…damned if she didn't include all manner of books in her library!"

Compared to the rest of the library, the Muggle section barely took up two bookcases (front and back), and mostly consisted of cheesy romance novels. There were a couple of saucier novels (that Hermione would never admit to have read), a fair amount of fiction (though some had been incorrectly labelled as non-fiction) and only a couple of scientific texts.

In her opinion, these were really the only books that held any real merit, as the others shelved there, came from the Wizarding perspective and portrayed Muggles as wicked beings out to steal or eat yourselves and/or your children. All very medieval, really.

"Nice and cozy there, Crooks?" Hermione smiled, running her fingers through his long ginger belly fur receiving a rather loud purr that seemed to vibrate along the wooden shelves. Crookshanks— who usually took to the library to sleep— had curled up at the end of the fourth shelf where he acted as a make-shift bookend for the romance section.

Shaking her head fondly at her familiar, she wordlessly rose into the air with feet tucked beneath her as if she was seated comfortably on the ground. Normally, flying or anything related to it, wasn't something that Hermione was up for—at least not the Wizarding way. Put her on a plane or up a skyscraper, and she was happy as could be; but the moment you put her on a broom or floated her higher than the top bookshelf…well, everyone has their fears, don't they?

She'd gotten better at it though. Currently, she could go to the top of the library's bookcases without feeling like her heart was in her mouth, which—if you actually took into consideration, how tall they really were—wasn't too far off the height a broom would normally go to. But Hermione liked to be in control, and you'd never know with a broom. _Harry's resulting Quidditch injuries haven't really helped things either. _

Hermione ran her tongue along the bottom of her front teeth in thought, a little vindictive smirk making its way onto her lips as her thoughts turned to the incident as she replaced the books she had read with new ones.

Following Malfoy's "battle" in the hallway outside the potion's classroom, all those weeks ago, Hermione had hurried off to the hospital wing where she had met up with a boil-covered Goyle and a ferreted-Malfoy. Both Purebloods had insisted on being examined first, which had irritated her somewhat but she hadn't been able to protest much with the ever enlarging buck teeth now scraping her collarbones.

Instead she had been forced to sit and watch as Malfoy's ferret face had receded back into its usual holier-than-thou smirk and had to listen to Goyle whine and complain as every single boil popped and disappeared.

When Madam Pomfrey had _finally _got around to treating her, the poor witch had tears streaming down her cheeks from the pain and the embarrassment of it. Pomfrey had lightly scolded her for not saying anything sooner— which Hermione had mentally scoffed at—before the nurse went about resizing her two front teeth.

The ornate hand-held mirror that Pomfrey had handed to Hermione was silver in colour and slightly oval-shaped. The entire frame consisted of Celtic engravings that wrapped around the border of the mirror and ended in a small handle at the base of it. Hermione had thought it pretty, and she probably would have said so, if it weren't for the wand halfway down her throat and receding teeth in her mouth.

"Just tell me when they're back to normal" Madam Pomfrey had reminded Hermione for the nth time as the Gryffindor watched her two front teeth shrink. Now, normally, Hermione was a stickler for the rules—until they needed to be broken, of course—but she also dreaded how her parents had mentioned she would be getting braces for those two specific teeth. So when the opportunity arose, Hermione chose to take it by the horns, so to speak.

"Ngh!" Hermione had garbled just as her two front teeth shrunk down to the perfect size—a couple sizes shorter than what they had been originally.

Another particularly loud squeal from down below brought Hermione out of her thoughts, and scaring Crookshanks from his nap where he climbed her like a tree. Mindless of the claws digging into her shoulder, Hermione hoisted herself up onto the top of the bookcase where she made herself comfortable.

Setting her things aside, Hermione pulled out her Dad's old walkman & pulled on a set of foam headphones as she flipped through the songs on this side of the cassette tape labelled, _"Bob's Totally Tubular Tunes!" _in her Dad's messy handwriting.

Eventually picking one, Hermione sat back as _The Who's "Baba O'Riley"_ washed through her ears and she flipped through the large marine life textbook in her lap. Like she'd told Victoria, she thought that her Animagus might be some kind of piscivore; during her daily prayers and meditations that morning, she could've sworn she saw the outline of the creature. If not that, then the sudden change in her diet had indicated what kind of animal she might be.

As it was, Hermione had taken to the library to see if she could find something—_anything—_that matched what she had seen. Flicking through the vinyl pages, Hermione absentmindedly stroked Crookshanks' fur as he stretched out in the sun patch and fluffing up her schoolbag. The pages of the textbook were filled colourful diagrams and long Latin scientific names of every creature, plant and mineral you could ever associate with the sea. From tiny plankton to twisting kelp to great big blue whales and back again.

Humming along to _"Rasputin"_ she nodded her head and bopped her feet back and forth over the side of the bookcase, in time to the beat as she read through the section on semi-aquatic animals. Just as she had begun to read the page on the otters, Hermione was interrupted once more by the rise in high-pitched chattering down below.

Glancing down over the sides, Hermione noticed that Krum had come to (unsuccessfully) hide amongst the Muggle section just as she had done. "For Hecate's sake!" Hermione scoffed, rolling her eyes and swinging her legs back on top of the bookcase as his fans tried to hone on him once more.

_It would not do well to get involved in that crap. _Hermione shook her head as she turned up the volume on the walkman and focused again on the book in her lap. The article that Rita Skeeter had released not long after the choosing of the champions had painted Harry as a cry-baby and wanna-be star in a sordid love affair with herself.

All poppycock of course, but the _Daily Prophet _was a well-read gossip rag that many witches and wizards subscribed to—herself included. Although, that didn't mean you could always count on them to print the truth. Then again, the truth didn't always make for a good story, so there's that. Hermione often compared them to the _Daily Mail _in that way.

Just as the walkman ticked over to _"Don't Go Breaking My Heart" _the clearing of a throat brought her out of her thoughts again. "What?!" Hermione snapped, annoyed at being interrupted for the umpteenth time that day. But she stopped at the sudden appearance of the Durmstrang golden boy before her.

Krum was a surly fellow—no matter what Ron said otherwise—his skin was sallow in colour and the dark buzzed hair cut he wore made his little beady eyes appear more sunken in and darker than they already were. Krum looked like he wanted to say something, but didn't know quite how to say it. Eventually he spat out "…Vy are you up 'ere?"

"For peace and quiet" Hermione sighed in barely contained irritation, "Or so I thought"

"Sorry?"

"It's fine" Though her tone clearly said otherwise, "It's not like there's any other places to study anyway"

"…You vere vith Potter on the first night…" Krum tried.

"Mm" Hermione kept her eyes on the book in her lap, resolutely reading through the same paragraph over and over again despite her best efforts, "He's a good friend"

"…And you know Bulgarian?" He tried again, his thick accent making the words hard to hear.

"German" She sharply corrected, "And I don't speak it much"

Despite her clipped answers, Krum didn't seem to be getting the hint and clearly looked liked he wanted to say more, that was until a particularly loud squeal sounded from the bottom right, "Up there! Krum!" where Krum's fans had gathered to squeal and point at the Seeker. And from the bottom right, stood Harry, " 'Mione! I'm all done, let's go!"

Heaving a sigh and rolling her eyes as she went, Hermione stuffed her things into her pouch (including Crookshanks who mrrowed in protest) before she tipped over the edge of the bookcase and free-fell to the floor. A wordless _Arresto Momentum! _caught her fall mere meters above the ground and caused Harry to breathe a "Merlin!" in surprise at her sudden appearance.

* * *

On the Saturday before the final task, everyone in third year and above had been given permission to visit Hogsmeade Village. Hermione didn't need to persuade Harry that much to get out of bed, though something seemed to be lost in communication between the two. Hermione had—fruitlessly—hoped that Harry would take the time to make up with Ron. Instead, Harry had insisted that if he was going to Hogsmeade, then it would be underneath his Invisibility Cloak.

"Oh Harry, this is so stupid—!" Hermione complained to the open air for the umpteenth time that morning as she tugged on the long sleeves of her striped sweater.

"No, I _told _you, I'll only come if under the Cloak _and _I'm not meeting Ron" Harry reiterated irritably from next to her.

"Oh alright!—" Hermione snapped, "—But I hate talking to you in that cloak, I never know if I'm looking at you or not"

"That's not my problem"

"Fine, but don't blame me for what you see in here" Hermione retorted as she led Harry down the stairwell towards the little hole-in-the-wall café shop called '_Loch & Keye'_

"What are we even doing here, 'Mione?" Harry quickly followed after the witch as she descended the twisting iron stairs.

"I told you, I'm meeting some friends here"

_Loch & Keye _was a quaint little café that sat in the crack between _Wizarding Wireless Network _and _The Magic Neep. _The café consisted of the main floor which held the cozy little booths and tables amongst the ivy-covered walls. The twisting staircase that descended into the café was also broken up by three large bird cages that held more dining areas.

All around the room, multicoloured Puffskeins were gobbling up the leftovers scattered about on dirty plates and a Kneazle or two stalked the floors looking more than happy with themselves. And the sound of the brass gramophone in the corner quietly crackled throughout the small shop, playing a mixture of Muggle and Magical songs. All in all, the wooden-encrusted shop gave off a rather homey—if not indy—feel when you entered.

"What? Like…Anderson?" Harry vaguely recalled the ginger from the Cup at the beginning of the year.

"Among others" Hermione replied padding over to the birdcage booth on the other side of the room where her friends already sat. Emilia, Lila and Charlotte had seated themselves along the back wall where they sipped at a shared kettle of steaming tea. While Victoria and Luna sat at either ends of the table, leaving Sophie on the other side of the table.

The little nook in which they had set themselves up in, was decorated with large squishy cushions and pillows that were tucked away in the back corner around the table. A single light floated above them, casting the nook into a warm and hazy glow, that bounced off of the wooden table.

"Mia! There you are! We were wondering where you had gotten to!" Emilia smiled, "Budge up, 'Medes, let 'er in!" The girls shuffled around, creating just enough space for Hermione to squeeze in next to Sophie and Luna.

"Mia, are you all right?" Luna asked dreamily, tilting her head to the side in question as she gazed at the spot where an invisible Harry stood. The young Ravenclaw cast a knowing glance towards him, and shifted over just enough to give him a place to sit.

"Yeah, why?" Hermione replied seating herself down at the table.

" 'Cause you've got a number of Wrackspurts clinging to you" She replied as if it were obvious; adjusting her Spectrespecs as she did so.

"Nah, it's just the one, I think. It's very _stubborn" _Hermione turned to lightheartedly glare at Harry, who sheepishly joined sat down next to her.

" 'Mione, what are Wrackspurts?" Harry whispered into Hermione's ear.

"_Apparently, _they're invisible creatures that float in through your ears and make your brain go fuzzy" Hermione replied out of the corner of her mouth.

"Wait! Are you saying she can see me?!"

"S'posedly, those specs are meant to see Wrackspurts; though it's more than likely just the Seelie blood in her"

"Wha—?"

"Well, _anyway—" _Emilia cut in, "—You're just in time! We've already ordered—we got you a Crazy Crup—and the high teas are on their way!"

"Crazy Crup?" Hermione questioned, "And what does that entail?"

"Ha!" Lila snorted at the untended pun, "En_tail!"_

"You know what I mean" Hermione stuck her tongue out at the girl, before turning back to Emilia.

"Hmm…" Luna double-checked the menu in front of her, "It says here, that a Crazy Crup is _'…a chocolate thickshake drizzled with raspberry and caramel sauces, topped with whipped cream and served in a deliciously tall chocolate goblet. Topped with two slices of Wakey-Up! Brew brownies and a garnish of Honeyduke's chocolate; this dessert is a must for chocolate lovers!"_

"I _do _love chocolate" Hermione agreed.

"Oh we _know!" _Charlotte shared a conspiratorial grin.

"Oh like you're any better?" Hermione sassed.

_"I _wasn't the one who hid a three foot chocolate dragon in her room!"

"That was one time!"

"Oh really? Then how about the time you lied to a certain DADA teacher, just so you could raid his chocolate stash?" Lila grinned, jumping in on the fun. Hermione could practically hear Harry's jaw drop to the floor, as the conversation continued on.

"HEY!—" Hermione pointed a finger at the two of them, "—You promised not to bring that up again!"

"But it's just so—"

"—Alright, that's enough!" Emilia laughed bemusedly as Hermione's cheeks tinted red in her lighthearted frustration, "Besides our food is here!"

"Ooh! I wanna take a photo!" Victoria jumped to her feet and pulled out a disposable Kodak camera from her pocket, "Everyone say _'cheese!"_

* * *

The rest of the afternoon had been splattered with copious amounts of food, laughter and the stiff form of Harry, still hidden beneath the Invisibility cloak as he tried his best not to make any noise or give the girls a reason to think that he was there. Although, Luna often sent him amused or knowing looks from behind her rose-tinted Spectrespecs throughout the entire afternoon. It was almost as if she had known he was there, especially when she had slipped him a couple of sandwiches and cakes. Eventually, when dusk began to break on the horizon, the group disembarked from the small café and set off in different directions, promising to meet up again sometime later.

"Oh!" Hermione let out a small gasp when she very nearly bumped into Hagrid and Moody as the two professors trudged down the path. Harry—who upon stopping just shy of bumping into Hermione herself—went to wave at Hagrid when he remembered that Hagrid couldn't see him.

Moody, however, paused as his magical eye zoomed in on the area where Harry was standing. A quick tap to Hagrid's arm and a quick mutter to the half-giant had the pair of them, turn to face the two Gryffindors.

"All right there, Hermione?" Hagrid spoke loudly, as if that would seem more natural or pierce through the layers of enchantment upon the cloak.

"Hello" Hermione smiled. Moody limped over and bent down as if to tie his shoelaces, until he muttered.

"Nice cloak, Potter" Harry stared at the DADA professor in amazement. The large chunk missing from Moody's nose was particularly obvious when it was shoved into Harry's face.

"Can your eye—I mean, can you—?" Harry stammered.

"Yeah, it can see through Invisibility cloaks" Moody grinned, "And it's come in useful at times, I can tell you"

Hagrid was beaming down at Harry too, though that was because Moody had told him that he was there, not because he could see him. Next, Hagrid bent down and busied his hands with the items in his cauldron, as he whispered to Harry. "Harry, meet me at midnight at me cabin. Wear the cloak" Straightening up, Hagrid spoke loudly again, "Nice tea see yeh, 'Ermione" He winked at the pair and then departed with Moody trailing after him.

"Why does Hagrid want to meet me at midnight?" Harry turned to Hermione, very surprised.

"I dunno" Hermione shrugged, her gaze following the pair as they disappeared down the path "I wonder what he's up to? I don't know if you should go Harry—" Hermione glanced suspiciously over her shoulder before continuing, "—It might make you late for Sirius. I s'pose you could always send Hedwig down to Hagrid with a letter saying you can't go…"

"No, it'll just be easier to get Hagrid's thing over with as quickly as possible" Harry rebutted.

"Well, if you say so…"

* * *

At half past eleven that night, Hermione watched as Harry quietly slipped from the common room with the Cloak tucked under his arm. Not half an hour later, when she was tucked away in bed, her thoughts still continued to swirl around her brain making it hard for her to fall asleep.

_Ugh! _Hermione tossed and turned, at first shoving her pillow over her head to block out Lavender's chainsaw snores and then curling up into a ball as if to keep the pounding thoughts at bay, as if she pretended to fall asleep, then she actually would. Of course, it didn't work.

Much like when she craved chocolate when she was menstruating, Hermione craved swimming beneath the dark waters of the Great Lake—or just swimming in general. To feel the cold waves lap at her bare skin as she dove in and out of the currents beneath the surface of the Lake. To dance freely beneath the waves like she was an acrobat in the circus. To just be herself, wild and free.

In the end, Hermione threw back her covers and slipped her black robes on cover her _Star Trek_ pyjamas. Quietly trekking down the moving staircases, Hermione made sure to stick to the shadows as she went, easily outmanoeuvring the Prefects and Professors on patrol. It was almost to easy to make her way down to the Forest, and then onto the Lakeside.

Shedding her robe and pyjamas and leaving them folded up on the shore, Hermione waded into the cold waters until she was up to her waist. Ignoring the goosebumps that decorated her skin, Hermione cast a quick Bubblehead charm before she dove down into the watery depths.

_Circe's tits! This is just what I needed! _Hermione grinned as she swam about, twisting and twirling under the water. She almost felt euphoric as she dared to pass by the large aquarium windows that opened into the Slytherin common room. Mindless of her current dress—or lack there of—Hermione twisted closer and cheekily waved at a red-cheeked Malfoy who lounged in a nearby chair, before swimming off back into the dark waters. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione watched as the blonde blinked rapidly as if he was trying to wake himself up from some kind of dream.

_That reaction'll be fun to see tomorrow! _She thought as she broke the surface of the water and lazily floated about on her back. Up above her, the stars glittered like diamonds in the sky, shining ever so bright and twinkling as the light bounced off of them.

The waxing moonlight bounced off of everything it touched; from the curved slopes of her bare breasts to the sturdy stone bricks of Hogwarts castle, to the shiny surface of the vast Lake and to the wooden slats of the Durmstrang ship where it was moored next to the docks. _Oh yes! _Hermione closed her eyes and smiled blissfully, _This is exactly what I needed. _

Her peace was soon shattered however, when a loud splash off to the side caught her attention. "Ah!" She let out a small yelp as she dropped her body back beneath the surface of the water, at the appearance of another head in such close range.

"Don't vorry, I have you" Came the familiarly thick accent of the infamous Bulgarian Seeker.

"…What?" Hermione turned confusedly to the teen in front of her.

"I am helping you out of trouble" Krum replied. And he did seem to be trying his best to help her, although his red-tinted cheeks and hesitant hands showed how he was really feeling.

"Do I look in trouble to you?" Still high on the endorphins flowing through her system, Hermione was less than reserved when she pressed in close to the Seeker until only a few centimetres separated the two.

"No…you look…" Krum's Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed harshly and his dark eyes blew wide.

"Yes…?" Hermione smirked, moonlight bouncing off of her wet figure.

"По дяволите, как да кажа…I am not good vith vords"

"Then show me" Hermione purred. That was the boy needed, as the two became entangled together, pressing so close that they were practically one person. The normally quiet and reserved Bulgarian Seeker, was devilish in his actions as he all but devoured the Gryffindor bookworm amongst the cold waves of the Great Lake.


	17. Dragons on the Pitch

When Sunday morning rolled around, Hermione wasn't sure if last night had been a dream or not, but upon finding the little purple mark that Krum had left on her neck, she couldn't help but feel giddy all over again. _He might not be good with words, but he sure knows how to use that tongue. _Hermione grinned, thinking back to what the Bulgarian had done to her, and her to him.

Shoving herself into a pair of slim-fitting jeans, one of Harry's Quidditch shirts and a multicoloured Cosby sweater, Hermione made her way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. "Just a little bit of chocolate with your porridge, Mia?" Victoria teased from across the table, where she sat next to Ginny. Hermione had to fight the smirk from her lips when she noticed Malfoy's eyes following her around the room and his red-tinted cheeks.

"You! Shush!" Hermione pointed the yoghurt spoon in her direction, before dropping it back into the large bowl and moved on to garnish her chocolate-drowned porridge in pomegranate and sunflower seeds

"I still don't see how you can eat that" Ginny wrinkled her nose at the sweet concoction piled high in the brunette's bowl.

"What? It's just a little bit of chocolate!" Hermione defended weakly around a spoonful of porridge.

" 'Mione, Honeydukes' Valentine's sale is a little bit of chocolate" Ginny deadpanned.

"Oh ha ha!" Hermione sassed, "Can you pass the juice?"

"Here ya g—Merlin's balls! Is that a _hickey?!" _

"What?" Hermione's head shot up and her hand slapped over the mark on her neck, "N-no! No, no, no! Of course not!"

"Yes, it is!" Ginny leant across the table in her effort to reach the witch leaning away form her reach, "Lemme see!"

"No! There's nothing there!"

"Yes, there is!"

"You're just seeing things!"

"No, I'm not! Show me!

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"Ha! Gotcha!"

"What? No, you didn't!"

"Oh _yes _she did!" Victoria joined in with a conspiratory grin as Harry sat down next to Hermione looking a little worse for wear.

"Now spill! Who was it? How did it happen? Do we know him?" Ginny agreed.

"Or her!" Victoria tacked on.

"Or her" Ginny amended.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked confused, looking between the two witches on the other side of the table who suddenly appeared very vulture-like in their pursuit of this little piece of gossip.

"Oh, nothing much, just that our little Hermione is snogging a secret someone in the dead of night!" Ginny grinned like the cat who got the cream.

_"What?" _Harry started, turning to face Hermione as he quietly demanded an explanation, much like an overprotective brother would.

"You two are worse than the twins" Hermione muttered into her porridge, "I hope you know that"

"Oh, it keeps me awake at night" Victoria joked, "So this secret snogger? They any good?"

"I don't wanna talk about it" Hermione muttered around a spoonful of her breakfast, as she refused to meet their eyes.

"Ooh! It's like that, is it?" Ginny wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

_"Ginny!" _

* * *

Following breakfast, Harry all but dragged her out of the Hall and out onto the grounds where he then proceeded to tell her everything that had happened to him the night before. From Sirius' warnings about Karkaroff to the dragons who were to be the first task of the Triwizard Tournament.

As alarmed as Hermione was about Sirius' warnings of Karkaroff, she was more concerned with the daunting task that was the dragons. "Let's just try and keep you alive until Tuesday evening," Hermione suggested worriedly "and then we can worry about Karkaroff"

The pair walked around the Lake thrice, all the while trying to come up with a simple way for Harry to subdue a dragon. Nothing whatsoever occurred to them, so they retired to the library instead. It was here that Harry pulled out every book he could find even mentioning dragons, and the two of them set to work.

" _'Talon-clipping by Charms…Treating Scale-Rot…' _This is no good, this is for nutters like Hagrid who want to keep them healthy…" Hermione mumbled, " '_Dragons are extremely difficult to slay, owing to the ancient magic that imbues their thick hides, which none but the most powerful spells can penetrate…' _But Sirius said a simple one would do it…" She rambled.

"Then let's try some simple spell books" Said Harry tossing aside _Men Who Love Dragons Too Much _and ignored Hermione's look of despair at how he had treated the book.

"Well, there are Switching Spells…" Hermione suggested when Harry returned with another stack of books to sift through, "…but what's the point of Switching it? Unless you swapped its fangs for wine-gums or something that would make it less dangerous…The trouble is, like that book said, not much is going to penetrate a dragon's hide. I'd say Transfigure it, but something that big? You haven't really a hope…Unless you're s'posed to charm _yourself? _Maybe give yourself extra powers? I s'pose you could always just turn _yourself _into a dragon and battle it out that way…Or you could ask Charlie for help…but then again you'd have to talk to Ron…"

"Hermione!" Harry bit out sharply, cutting off her ramblings "Will you shut up for a bit, please? I'm trying to concentrate"

The pair only had a few moments of blessed silence before the high-pitched twittering of Krum's fan club appeared in the library. "Oh for Hecate's sake!" Hermione cursed under her breath as her eyes followed the tightly-knit girls as they moved between the shelves like cats in heat, over the pages of her current book. "They're like bloody bloodhounds! Honestly!"

" 'Mione" Harry murmured, as if worried that he'd alert the growing group of girls.

"Hm?" Hermione turned to Harry, her annoyance forgotten for the time being.

"Hermione Granger?" Hermione soon found herself accosted by a second year girl who looked like she'd rather be anywhere else—specifically over with the other girls as they stalked Krum.

"Yes?" Hermione asked.

"This is for you" The second year shoved a small piece of parchment into her hands before disappearing in a flourish of flying hair and overpowering perfume.

"What's it say?" Harry questioned, as Hermione unfolded the piece of parchment that was so graciously delivered to her.

There weren't many words written there, and of those that were had been written in somewhat broken English. Hermione didn't recognise the handwriting, but she could almost hear his voice as he wrote it.

_палавница,_

_You swim tonight?  
__I watch for your waves.  
__—V. _

"Hermione? What does it say?" Harry pestered, his book long forgotten as he watched his friend blush crimson at whatever she had read.

"N-nothing, it's nothing" Hermione quickly stuffed the note into her pocket and began to pack up, "C'me on Harry, we should go back to the common room…it'll only be so long before the rest of his fan club show up" And sure enough, no sooner had they left the library did a gaggle of girls tiptoe past them, one even wearing a Bulgarian scarf tied around her waist.

* * *

Hermione glanced anxiously over at the greenhouse door as if doing so would make Harry magically appear. _He said he only needed to talk to Cedric. _She worried her bottom lip between her teeth as she pruned the Flutterby Bush in front of her, _It shouldn't take that long, should it?_

As if he had heard her worries, Harry ducked through the greenhouse door and muttered an apology to Sprout not three minutes later._ Speak of the devil! _Making a beeline for Hermione, Harry didn't even mutter a 'hello' before he launched right into it. "Hermione," Harry whispered "Hermione—I need you to help me"

"What do you think I've been trying to do, Harry?" Hermione fired back, a little snappishly.

"Hermione, I need to learn how to do a Summoning Charm properly by tomorrow afternoon"

And so they practised. They didn't have lunch, instead heading for a free classroom where Harry tried his very best to make various objects fly across the room towards him. It wasn't working. The books and quills would leap across the room and them lose heart about halfway there, dropping like lead stones to the floor.

"Concentrate, Harry, _concentrate…!" _Hermione reminded him.

"What d'ya think I'm trying to do?" Harry snapped, "A great big dragon keeps popping up in my head for some reason…"

"Well, if you're gonna be a bloody jerk about it…!"

"Sorry, sorry, it's just…"

"Yeah, I know…Okay, try again…"

After a few more tries, lunch soon came to an end. Harry had wanted to skip Divination to keep practising, but Hermione had outright refused to skive off of Arthimacy, and Harry had deemed it impossible to practise alone. Hermione wasn't sure if she should be flattered or not.

* * *

Following dinner, Hermione had stayed up with Harry until well into the night to practise the Summoning Charm. At first they had used the empty classroom from earlier in the day, but when Peeves decided he was going to try and 'help' the two had retired to the Gryffindor common room where they continued to practise.

By the time two o'clock had rolled around, Hermione was dead on her feet. She used to getting up earlier than most, but going to sleep late? She enjoyed her sleep, thank you very much! Thankfully, however, Harry seemed to finally be getting a hang of the charm. "That's…that's better Harry!" Hermione yawned, "That's loads better!"

"Well, now we know what to do the next time I can't manage a spell," Harry threw a Rune's dictionary back to Hermione so he could try again, "threaten me with a dragon. Right…" He raised his wand once more _"Accio Dictionary!" _The heavy book soared out of Hermione's hand, flew across the room into Harry's.

"Harry, I really think you've got it!" Hermione quietly cheered, wary of Percy who had been down several times already to scold them and send them to bed.

"Just as long as it works tomorrow" Said Harry, "The Firebolt's going to be much further away than the stuff in here, it's going to be in the castle, and I'm going to be out there on the grounds…"

"That doesn't matter" Hermione stated firmly. _Especially if I hide it closer to the stadium. _"Just as long as you're concentrating hard enough, it'll come. Now we better go to bed, you're going to need your sleep Harry. C'me on, before Percy has an aneurism" She shooed him up the stairs, quietly making her way towards her own bed.

* * *

Hermione's nerves grew tenfold the next day and she wasn't even participating! The students had been told that their lessons were to stop at midday, allowing them time to get down to the stadium which had been set up on the Quidditch Pitch—one of the few places that would hold so many people at once.

Throughout their lessons that morning, Hermione couldn't help but notice that Harry seemed to drift by (along with some of the other champions) as their nerves and anxieties weighed on them. A couple of passersby had whispered _'good luck'_ whilst others had hissed '_We'll have a box of tissues ready, Potter' _

At one point Krum had even pulled Hermione aside to speak with her, mostly to ask where she had been last night and if she had gotten his message. _He wasn't exactly subtle about it either. _Hermione shuddered at the memory of all the glares she had received from a group of nearby girls._ If looks could kill, I would've been ten feet under_. Thankfully, Luna had swooped in out of nowhere and saved her from the wrath of Krum's fan club.

"Potter!" McGonagall called, pulling Hermione from her thoughts as she dipped a couple of slices of sourdough into her bowl of chicken soup. "Potter, the champions have to come down onto the grounds now…You have to get ready for your first task"

"Okay" Harry stood up, dropping his forkful of eggs onto his plate with a clatter. Hermione was glad that she had at least been able to shove some toast into him, even if he had picked at his eggs before McGonagall had turned up.

"Good luck, Harry" Hermione whispered, trying to her hide her obvious worry "You'll be fine!"

"Yeah" Harry agreed, his voice airy and so unlike his own.

Not long after Harry had left, the rest of the student body—Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons alike—wandered down to the transformed Quidditch Pitch, wrapped up like little Michelin men as they went to find good seats. Even surrounded by her friends, Hermione couldn't help but worry as Bagman came out to introduce the First Task.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! WITCHES AND WIZARDS OF ALL AGES!" Bagman bellowed, seemingly unaware of how the Sonorous Charm worked. He stood in the middle of the arena, balancing on one of the rocky outcroppings that had taken over the Quidditch Pitch. "WELCOME TO THE TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT! IT IS MY GREATEST PLEASURE TO OPEN THE TOURNAMENT WITH OUR VERY FIRST TASK: DRAGONS!" The first of the dragons led out and collared was a Swedish Shortsnout. "OUR CHAMPIONS MUST COLLECT THE GOLDEN EGG—" Here he held up one of the eggs in question, seemingly unaware of the dragon's eyes locked upon it, "—FROM THE DRAGON'S NEST TO PASS!"

_Oh Hecate! _Hermione thought nervously biting her nails as Bagman disappeared from the arena and the cannon from off to the right sounded, bringing forth the first champion of the day. The crowd roared as one when Cedric Diggory emerged from the tent and made his way out into the arena.

_He sounds like Dad a bit…_Hermione mused a little hysterically as she listened to Bagman's running commentary of Cedric's performance. "Oooh! Narrow miss there! Very narrow!…He's taking risks, this one!…_Clever _move—pity it didn't work!""

Screams, gasps and yells also sounded from the hive-minded audience as they watched the Hufflepuff first, avoid the dragonfire and then transfigure a nearby boulder into a large dog, which he sent running in the opposite direction. It appeared to be just enough to distract the Swedish Shortsnout as he dove for the Golden Egg.

At least until the dragon turned away from the dog just in time to see Cedric heading for its nest. The crowd flinched as one when the dragon let out a stream of molten fire that burnt the side of the Huffflepuff's face, and yet emboldened by his almost success, he continued on until he reached the egg. The fierce sound of the dragon's roar ripped through the stadium at his capture of the egg.

"Very good indeed!" Bagman shouted, "And now the marks from our judges!" Hermione barely acknowledged the scores from the three headmasters before the next champion came forth. This time is was Fleur who emerged at the sound of the cannon. And again, the same process occurred.

"Ooh! I'm not sure that was wise!" Bagman sounded almost gleeful as Fleur enchanted the Common Welsh Dragon to sleep using the combination of an old magical lullaby and a sleeping charm. The French witch made it within reaching distance of the Golden egg when the dragon shifted with a snore and let out a jet of flames that set her skirt alight. "Ooh! Nearly!" Bagman cried gleefully. Not to be deterred and with minimal flailing at the unexpected attack, Fleur quickening extinguished the flames and continued on to the egg.

"AND HERE COMES MR KRUM!" Bellowed Bagman as the cannon sounded, following Fleur's scores. Up in the stands, Hermione mercilessly wrung her hands in worry as she watched him take on the fierce Chinese Fireball. "Very daring! That's some nerve he's showing—!" Cried Bagman as Viktor shot a Conjunctivitis Curse towards the dragon's eyes, blinding it enough for him to retrieve the egg. Unfortunately for him, the dragon in its fits of hell-shrieking fury, smashed half of a real egg that was in the nest with the Golden egg. "—And yes! He's got the egg!"

Hermione felt like her heart was going to burst out of her chest by the time Harry made his way out onto the pitch. Of all the dangerous things the boy had done over the years, taking on a dragon was definitely higher up on the list. Nervously she watched as the Chinese Fireball was exchanged for a Hungarian Horntail and a new Golden egg was placed in the nest.

"AND LAST BUT CERTAINLY NOT LEAST…MR POTTER!" Bagman sounded over the roar of the crowd and the blast of the cannon. Gripping so tight to Luna's hand that she could've sworn she heard her bones creak beneath her hold, Hermione could only watch on as Harry called forth his Firebolt and shot off into the air.

A breath of relief escaped her lips when the newly learnt spell worked for the boy, and just in time too as the Horntail seemed to have taken roost over the eggs and was watching him like a hawk, daring him to make a move. Harry launched himself into the air where he seemed to be more comfortable.

The next few moments seemed to pass by in a blur as Harry taunted the Horntail, dodging out of the way of jet streams of fire like a fly dancing around the hand that was trying to swat it.

A swing of the dragon's tail caught Harry on the arm, hard enough to carve a shallow groove along it.

Eventually he was able to persuade the dragon into rearing off of the nest if guarded so closely; just enough for him to swoop in and grab the Golden egg. The crowd roared their praises. It seemed despite Harry's unprecedented entrance into the Tournament, the young teen still held favour with the students, for putting on a good show, if nothing else.

"LOOK AT THAT!" Bagman roared, "WILL YOU LOOK AT THAT! Our youngest champion is quickest to get his egg! Well, this is certainly going to shorten the odds on Mr Potter!" No sooner had Harry disappeared from the arena did Hermione (shortly joined by Ron) disappear from the stands and rush over to the where the first-aid tent was located.

_"Harry!" _Hermione all but launched herself at her bespectacled friend, tackling him into a bear hug that made Harry feel like he was loosing air.

" 'M-Mione…'Mione…shoulder" Harry gasped out when she jostled his recently healed shoulder.

"Sorry!" Hermione squeaked as she jumped away from him, "You were amazing! You really were!"

"Thanks"

"Harry," Ron spoke up next when his ashen face met his mate's, "whoever put your name in the goblet—I-I reckon they're trying to do you in!" He said seriously.

"Caught on, have you?" Harry retorted coldly, "Took you long enough"

Hermione stood nervously between them, silently warring with herself over whether she should burst into tears or slap the two of them over the head. Ron opened and closed his mouth uncertainly like a goldfish as he tried to verbalise his apology. "It's okay" Harry interjected before Ron could say anything, "Forget it"

"No" Said Ron, "I shouldn't have—"

_"Forget it" _Harry reiterated. Ron grinned nervously at him and Harry grinned back.

**_TH~WACK!_**

"Ow!" Harry clasped his reddening cheek and turned to stare wide-eyed at the witch next to them.

"What was that for, 'Mione?!" Ron demanded, mirroring Harry.

"You two are so _stupid!" _Hermione cried as she burst into tears, unable to hold them back any longer. They trekked down her face in long watery tracks and her eyes puffed up red as she launched herself forward to wrap the two in a tight hug, clinging to Harry with one arm and Ron with the other.

"There's nothing to cry about!" Harry returned the hug, bewildered.

"Then stop being idiots!" Hermione sniffed, pulling them closer until the two boys were practically glued to her side.

"Hermione, we're fine" Ron tried to reason with her, patting her back. His actions were rather awkward but practised as he was used to dealing with Ginny.

" 'Mione? Are you ever going to let go?" Harry tried to pry himself out of her death grip.

"Only if you two promise to stop being idiots" Hermione replied childishly, her hands clasping the back of their shirts in a tight grip.

"Okay, sure, we promise"

Rather reluctantly, Hermione let the two embarrassed boys go, letting them fluff themselves up like peacocks as she sniffed and wiped away her tears. When she looked up, Ron seemed to be giving her the same once-over that her father would give before she went to a school dance during Primary school.

"What?" Hermione sniffed, meeting the ginger's gaze.

"So," Ron began, sharing a conspiratory glance with Harry, "what's this I hear about a hickey?"

_"Ronald!" _Hermione squawked in surprise at the sudden turn in events. Unbeknownst to the trio, in the next cubicle over Krum smirked.


	18. The Otter & The Hare

**_December 1995_**

In the days following the first task, Hermione herded Harry and Ron up towards the Owlery so Harry could post the letter she had made him write to Sirius. As it turned out, using the tattletale excuse always seemed to kick their asses in gear, whether she threatened to tell Sirius, McGonagall or even Dumbledore. Mostly because she knew, that they knew that most people saw her as this goody-two-shoes witch, meaning she could just about get away with anything, much like a younger sister tattling on her brothers.

Harry had spent the journey up to the Owlery explaining to Ron everything that Sirius had told him about Karkaroff. Though he was shocked at first, by the time the trio had reach the turret, Ron was of the opinion that it was rather obvious in hindsight.

"Fits, doesn't it?" Said Ron, "Remember what Malfoy said on the train, about his dad being friends with Karkaroff? Now we know where they knew each other. They were probably running around in masks together at the World Cup…I'll tell you one thing though, Harry, if it _was _Karkaroff who put your name into the goblet, he's going to be feeling really stupid now isn't he? Didn't work, did it? You only got a scratch!—"

Hermione crossed her arms and leant against the poop-speckled Owlery wall safely out of the way of the overly excited Weasley owl as he dive-bombed Harry and Ron. _Geez, he's really laying it on thick, ain't he? _She knew that Ron was really only saying these things to make up for his behaviour over the passed few weeks, but it was still starting to grate on her nerves.

"…There's _no way _any of the other task are going to be that dangerous! How could they be?" Ron continued to ramble as he carried Pigwidegon back over to the window and tossed him outside. "Y'know what? I reckon you could win the whole tournament, Harry. I'm serious"

"Harry's got a long way to go before he finished the tournament" Hermione replied realistically, "Did you forget about the recorded deaths bit? Merlin! If that was the first task, I hate to think what's coming next"

"Right little ray of sunshine, aren't you? You and Trelawney should get together sometime" Pigwidegon plummeted a few feet before he was able to regain his senses and fluttered off with Harry's novel. "Well, we'd better get back downstairs for your surprise party, Harry—Fred and George should have nicked enough food from the kitchens by now" Ron turned back from the window.

"So much for the surprise!" Hermione scolded Ron as she followed after the boys, brushing off little flakes of dried owl poo from her jacket.

Sure enough when they returned to the Gryffindor tower, the common room had exploded with cheers and yells. There were mountains of baked goods and flagons of pumpkin juice & butterbeer on every surface. Lee had let off some _Filibuster's Fireworks _so that the air was thick with stars and sparks, and Dean—who was very good at drawing—had but up some impressive new banners, most of which depicted Harry zooming around the Horntail's head on his Firebolt; though a couple did show Cedric with his head on fire.

Helping herself to the chocolate eclairs, Hermione soon found herself seated next to Ron and Harry when Lee accosted her bespeckled friend with the golden egg. "Blimey! This thing is heavy!" Said Lee picking up the golden egg (which Harry had left on a table) and was weighing it in his hands. "Open it Harry! Go on! Let's just see what's inside!"

"He's s'posed to work out the clue on his own" Hermione swiftly interjected, "It's in the tournament rules…"

"I was s'posed to work out how to get passed the dragon on my own too" Harry muttered out of the corner of his mouth. Hermione grinned guiltily and gobbled down another eclair.

"Yeah! Go on, Harry! Open it!" Several people around them echoed.

Lee passed Harry the egg and with a bit of scrambling along the groove that ran around the circumference of the egg, he prised it open. The first thing Hermione noticed was that the hollow interior of the egg was a matted gold in colour, painted much like a Muggle Easter egg would be. The next thing she noticed was the ear-piercing shriek that escaped from it, filling the room. It filled the room in a loud and screechy wailing, one that made Hermione think of a toddler being run over by a lawnmower.

"SHUT IT!" Fred bellowed, hands over his ears. He wasn't the only one. As soon as the screeching had started, witches, wizards and paintings alike had snapped away from the egg and clamped their hands over their ears in an effort to block out the horrific noise to no avail.

"What was _that?" _Seamus stared at the egg as Harry mercifully slammed it shut again. "Sounded like a banshee…Maybe you've gotta get passed one those next, Harry!"

"It was someone being tortured!" Neville suggested next. He had gone ashen-faced and spilled several sausage rolls onto the carpet, "You're going to have to face the Cruciatus Cruse!"

"Don't be a prat, Neville, that's illegal" Replied George, "They wouldn't use the Cruciatus Curse on champions. I thought it sounded a bit like Percy singing…maybe you've got to attack him while he's in the shower, Harry"

"What 'bout you, 'Mione? What d'ya think?" Harry turned to the witch.

"First thing that came to mind was a toddler being run over by a lawnmower—" Several Muggleborns and Halfbloods in the room winced at the bloody image, "—So unless you think your gonna be mutilating children…" Hermione replied.

"Eurgh! Yeah, no, I don't think so" Harry agreed, placing the egg down on the coffee table and going back to the plate of food piled high in front of him.

"Want a tart Hermione?" Fred offered, shoving the plate of jam tarts into her face. Hermione looked doubtfully at the offered plate.

"It's all right—" Fred grinned, "I haven't done anything to them. It's the custard creams you've gotta watch out for" Neville who had just bitten into a custard cream, choked and spat it out making Fred laugh, "Just my little joke, Neville…"

"…Uh, I'm fine with these…" Hermione replied, biting into the eclair in her hand, only for cream to squirt out of the bottom of the pastry. "Mm!" Whilst Hermione was licking the cream off of her hands and lips, she was unaware of the suddenly very red Weasley standing next to her and following her tongue's movements with rapt attention.

"Can you pass me a napkin, Ron?" Hermione leant around Harry when all the cream was gone, "Thanks" Turning back to the elder Weasley, Hermione then asked, "Did you get all this from the kitchens Fred?"

"H-huh?" Fred shook himself, ridding himself of whatever images his mind had conjured.

"Fred?"

"Oh! Uh, yep!" He grinned, putting on a high-pitched squeak and imitating a House-Elf, _'Anything we can get you, sir, anything at all!' _They're dead helpful…get me a roasted ox if I was peckish enough"

"How'd you get there?"

"Easy, concealed door behind a painting of a bowl of fruit. Just tickle the pear, and it giggles and—" He suddenly stopped and looked suspiciously at her, "Why?"

"Nothing" Hermione rapidly replied.

"Going to try and lead the House-elves out on strike now are you?" George added, "Going to give up all the leaflet stuff and stir them into a rebellion?"

Several people chortled at the idea. Hermione didn't answer, just simply slumped down in her seat a little. It might not have been the real reason she wanted to know where the kitchens were, but it was the less embarrassing reason why. House-elf strike versus seafood/chocolate cravings? It was no wonder, Lavender had asked if she was pregnant the other day.

"Don't you go upsetting them and telling them they've gotta take clothes and salaries!" Warned Fred, "You'll put them off their cooking!"

"Oh! That's not the reason she wants to know, is it Mia?" Victoria grinned appearing next to the twins.

"Vicky!" Hermione warned, snapping upright and pointing a finger towards the elder witch.

"What are you talking about, Baker?" George turned to the girl who was happily munching on a jam tart.

"Don't you dare!" Hermione warned again, only to be ignored by the devilish witch.

"Oh just a little incident last year with a certain chocolate-loving Prof—"

_"Ineptias!" _Hermione squealed, blushing furiously as she cut off her friend; wandlessly using a hex that she had learnt from the joke book she planned to give the twins for Christmas.

"Tahw saw taht rof, Aim?" Victoria tried to ask, but her question came out garbled and sounding like nonsense.

"Ha! What was that?" George laughed as Victoria tried her best to sound out her words, only for nothing to change.

"What I wanna know, is what Baker was going to say that made Mia do that!" Fred turned to the furiously blushing witch.

"N-nothing! It's nothing!" Hermione squealed.

Thankfully, Neville caused a slight diversion by turning himself into a large sunshine yellow canary and toppled off of his seat. "Oh…sorry, Neville!" Fred shouted over all of the laughter, "I forgot it _was _ the custard creams we hexed—" Within a minute, however, Neville had melted, and once his feathers had fallen off, he reappeared looking entirely normal. He even joined in on the laughter.

"Canary Creams!" George to thee excitable crowd, previous conversation forgotten much to Hermione's relief, "Fred and I invented them—seven Sickles a piece, a bargain!"

* * *

Months and months after the girls had started the Animagi process, Hermione finally discovered which animal she was going to be. Following the first task of death-defying dragons, many of her dreams had been filled with terrifying images of Harry (and occasionally Ron or Viktor) dying in outrageous ways.

It was in the latest one where Harry was being drowned in the Black Lake by Mrs Norris (Filch's cat), when it appeared like a guardian angel out of the darkest depths. At first, Hermione had thought it to be her patronus, but as it had approached she could make out more of a solid shape moving through the water.

Somehow she knew this creature was her; in the same way you know that the faceless guy in your dreams was your father or brother or friend. From the watery depths emerged an otter, a river otter to be exact. She could almost see the scientific classification jump out at her like it had come straight from the pages of a marine encyclopaedia. Hermione was an otter, and it made so much sense.

It was during one particular Care of Magical Creatures lesson when she spent most of the lesson cloud-watching instead of the bloody Blast-ended Skrewts squirming around in the crates at her feet. A thought occurred to her, _The transformation has to be completed at the birth of a storm. _Hermione's eyes trailed after a little grey cloud as it floated lazily across the dull sky, _But who said the storm had to be naturally induced?_

And so, in true form, Hermione took to the library.

* * *

Hermione's chance didn't come until a few weeks later when the forecast predicted heavy rain. The December sleet and wind had made its way to Hogwarts by this point, creating the perfect base for a magically-induced storm. According to the old weather spell she had found, you didn't _have _to base it on the pre-existing weather, but it did help, particularly if one was to perform the spell alone.

Hermione was glad for the roaring fires and thick walls of the castle as she passed by the Durmstrang ship on the way to the Forest, which was pitching in the high winds with its black sails billowing against the dark skies. She thought that the Beauxbatons carriage was likely to be rather chilly too, since the French students had been so under dressed when they had first arrived at Hogwarts.

Hagrid, she noticed, was once again keeping Madame Maxime's horses well provided with their preferred drink of the single-malt whiskey, which was impressive considering the quantities the equines inhaled and the fumes that wafted up from the troughs in the corner of their paddock. It was enough to make the Care of Magical Creatures classes light-headed.

Trudging down the frosted path, Hermione tucked her frost-nipped nose further into her Bulgarian scarf from the World Cup and tried her best not to slip over as she made her way through the snowy forest. Following muscle memory to the spot where Forest and Lake met, Hermione set about preparing herself for the spell in question.

The incantation in question was a rather simple one, but the small book that she had "borrowed" from the Restricted Section stated that intent played a large part in it. So she had waited for a day that had delivered on the forecasted rain. Thankful of her the study lesson that she had before dinner that day, Hermione easily slipped down to the Forest where she planned on performing it. The book had noted that after the incantation was recited, then a brief period of time had to be given in leeway of the storm to brew fully.

With toes buried at the cold Lake's edge, the water not quite iced over, Hermione raised her arms towards the heavens with palms up and began to recite the incantation, pouring all the intent she could into the spell.

"_Mystic forces I invite, _

_Fill the skies with clouds of night_

_Be ye far or be ye near_

_I summon rain to appear_

_Sky above, gone the sun_

_The melodies have just begun_

_Sky above, come undone_

_Shower rain on everyone_

_Sky above, come undone_

_Shower rain on everyone_

_Sky above, come undone_

_Shower rain on everyone!"_

She remained there, chanting the last verse over and over until the first showers of rain began to fall in earnest. Hermione laughed jovially as she grinned up at the darkening sky and danced happily amongst the snow-covered trees, relishing in the raindrops on her skin in her elation.

* * *

Racing back up to the castle, Hermione was able to intercept Luna in the entrance Hall halfway through dinner, just as a loud crack of thunder split across the sky. The two shared a conspiratorial grin as the rest of the coven hurried over to meet them. "C'me on! Let's go!" Grinned Emilia as she raced passed the pair, grabbing both the younger witches by the wrists and leading them out into the pouring rain.

The girls laughed and danced in the rain, mindless of the looks they were receiving from other students who hurried inside to find some kind of shelter. Hermione heard whispers from a gaggle of French witches asking if it was some kind of ritual that Scottish witches did. It only made her laugh harder.

Robes billowed out behind the girls as they raced down to the Forest, each one shedding as many layers as they could the moment the reached the boundary line. Off came the cloak and shoes and sweater and socks until they were wildly racing through the woods like dryads in spring.

It seemed to only take moments for the coven to reach their clearing, all windswept and huffing from the abrupt sprint through the wintry woods. Hermione could barely contained her excitement as she watched Sophie pull out the two small golden cauldrons (courtesy of the Garcia Vaults), where the potion had been distilling in the tree cupboards for most of the year. Next to her, Luna was practically buzzing in excitement.

After the viscous blood red liquid was poured into two goblets and the cauldrons cleaned with a quick _Scourgify! _the two hewn goblets were presented to either witch. "Remember to picture your animal in your mind. See its head, the feet, the eyes. See it so clearly that you could almost reach out and touch it" Lila instructed handing Hermione her goblet.

Hermione took a deep shuddering breath and closed her eyes, bringing forth the image of the river otter which had visited her in her dreams. Like a wildlife documentary, Hermione could picture each and every detail of her animagus. From the elongated body to the broad hips; from the thick cat-like whiskers to the long propeller-like tail. A broad muzzle and flat head came to mind, with rounded ears and small beady eyes sunken into the head. Encased in short dark mud-coloured fur, and an underbelly that likened itself to pebbles and skipping stones. The otter in her mind appeared with a sharp-toothed grin and looked like it had just emerged from the beloved water.

"Can you picture it?" Came Emilia's voice. Keeping her eyes closed, Hermione nodded, keeping the image in her mind. All around them, the environment felt alive with the electrifying static energy that was filling the air. The hair on her arms and neck began to stand up, and a tingly sensation flitted though her limbs leaving goosebumps to trail along her skin.  
"Good, now drink the potion" Lila instructed, watching as both witches gulped down the mouthful of blood red potion in their goblets. "And repeat _Amato Animo Animato Animagus"_

Up above the clearing, lightning crackled splitting the sky and painting the heavens in electrifying and blinding colours. Hermione could see the large flashes of light, light up behind her eyelids. With eyes still shut and animal firmly in mind, Hermione and Luna recited the incantation in unison, "_Amato Animo Animato Animagus"_

For a moment nothing seemed to happen, and then all at once bones began to pop and crack as their first transformations came upon them. Dropping her goblet to the forest floor, Hermione fought to keep the river otter in mind over the short and sharp pain she was suddenly feeling.

Like a combination of menstruation cramps and growing pains; a small gasp escaped from her lips as her body contorted into unnatural shapes and angles. She knew from her research that the process of changing between animal and witch would become easier over time. Like learning to walk, it would take several tries before she was likely to get it properly right.

Clothes morphed into muddy-coloured short-haired fur, teeth elongated into sharp fangs, frizzy hair shrunk to rounded button-ears and pushed back to reveal a flat head. The process took no more than a few moments but time seemed to blur together becoming a melting pot of fuzzy memories filled with nothing but emotions.

When the pain had finally passed, Hermione found that her equilibrium was off and she fell the short distance to the forest floor. A series of rushed chitters and chirps escaped her lips as she tried to right herself in her (new) body. Thoughts and instincts whirled around in her head as her witch mind and animal mind took a moment to seamlessly meld together; leaving her to fondle at her muzzle with tiny webbed paws and flop around the clearing as she tried to regain her bearings.

When all seemed right once more, the little otter spun around to find herself nose-to-nose with a mountain hare. _Luna. _Her mind supplied. The little mountain hare twitched her nose as she hopped forth to sniff the little otter, as she did so Hermione was able to see that Luna was sporting the white fluff of winter, making it easier for her to blend in with the environment.

_Fleet of foot, the mountain hare suits Luna just fine. _Hermione thought as her attention turned away from the happy little hare who had deemed her safe, to the collection of witches around them. Where they once stood cooing and proudly smiling at the two youngest witches, now stood a menagerie of animals.

Chasing after the elder animals of this strange little group, both new animals were christened with their nicknames. Cleverly named, Otto and Hopper were introduced into the world, racing through the stormy lands of Scotland, just a couple of animals in play.


	19. It's Old Mother Hubbard's Cupboard!

Following Hermione and Luna's first successful shifts into their animagi, the coven had run hither and yonder over the Hogwarts grounds; sometimes as witches and other times as animals, helping the two younger witches to get used to the change between the two forms. The menagerie played throughout the night until the transformations became seamless, like slipping into a second skin.

The next morning, Hermione found herself happily eating breakfast in the kitchens along with the rest of the coven. Clustered around one end of the long wooden tables encompassed in silver trays of food, with the roaring fireplace to their backs, the girls easily laughed and devoured their food as they retired from the previous night's events.

The House-elves had happily greeted the tired witches when they had slipped down the hidden stairwell and into the Hogwarts' kitchens. _What d'ya know? Fred was right, _Hermione mused as they were quickly accosted by numerous House-elves offering their services to the gaggle of witches.

At first Hermione had been hesitant to ask for something from the elves, seeing the treatment of them akin to slavery or forced servitude. No pay, no clothes and constant work. Though the elves had denied the unfairness of this, some even going so far as to appear offended at the suggestion of liberation from their bonds.

It wasn't until Sophie had sat down and properly explained it to her in a way that she was able to understand. Sophie had likened the practise of raising and employing House-elves to that of the breeding and raising of wild animals in a zoo. How creatures that were born and bred in captivity were unlikely to survive in the wild because they just weren't raised in that environment and therefore, not used to the dangers of it. Which made sense in retrospect, and Sophie's explanation did better to assuage her feelings about the whole thing, more than Ron's explanation ever did.

"Hey, Lila?" Hermione asked around a mouthful of fruit salad as her eyes wandered from the large pile of copper and silver cooking pots to the iron-cast oven range.

"Hm?" Lila hummed around a mouthful of pastry.

"I've been meaning to ask, why the nicknames?"

"Oh! It was something that one of our ole founding witches did!"

"Huh?"

"Quit talking like she's some old lady, Ches!" Victoria laughed before turning to Hermione, "She was this 'Puff witch from the 70s that became interested in old magics. She found a book of Hecate's teachings one day and talked about it with her friends and the rest they say, is history"

"Yeah, anyway, the nicknames were just some fun little thing that she thought of. We reckon she might've been either a Muggleborn or a Halfblood considering some of the names" Lila continued.

"Hm?"

"Like, Georgia McDonald's? She was a doe called Bambi. And then there was Holly Cunnings, she was a Flemish bunny called Thumper or Amelia Howser, she was a sparrow called Flitter"

"Who?" Hermione tilted her head in question. Lila smiled at the animalistic trait the younger witch had unknowingly performed, as she replied.

"You probably wouldn't know them, they graduated a couple of years ago"

"Oh"

"C'me on! Eat up! We've got class soon!"

* * *

In the end, Hermione didn't get to see Harry and Ron until that evening because of the differences in their timetables. Following dinner, however she was intent in finding the two so she could show them what she had discovered.

"Harry!" Hermione panted rushing up the staircase to the front door of the Gryffindor tower. Skidding to a halt next to the two boys who turned at her call, the Fat Lady raising an eyebrow at her rather dramatic entrance, "Harry, you've gotta come—you've _gotta _come! The most amazing thing's happened—please!" She seized Harry by the arm and started to drag him back down the stairs and along the corridor.

"What's the matter?" Harry asked.

"I'll show you when we get there—oh come on, quick—"

"Okay" Harry agreed after sharing an intrigued glance with Ron.

"Oh don't mind me!" The Fat Lady called irritably after them, "Don't apologise for bothering me! I'll just hang here, wide open until you get back then, shall I?"

"Yeah, thanks!" Ron replied over his shoulder, completely oblivious to the sarcasm in the painting's tone.

"Hermione, where are we going?" Harry asked as the trio hurried down the corridor.

"You'll see in a minute!" Hermione replied excitedly. Turning left at the bottom of the staircase and hurrying towards the door situated there. They quickly descended the stone stairs and soon found themselves in a broad stone corridor that was brightly lit with torches and decorated with cheerful paintings; the majority of which were food.

"Oh hang on…" Harry trailed off suspiciously halfway down the corridor, "Wait a minute, Hermione…"

"What?" Hermione turned to look at him, anticipation written all over her face.

"I know what this is about" Harry nudged Ron and pointed to the painting just behind Hermione. It showed gigantic silver fruit in a decorative bowl.

"Oh?"

"Hermione!" Ron cottoned on, "You're trying to rope us into the House-elf stuff again!"

"No, no, I'm not!" Hermione replied hotly, crossing her arms in frustration at the accusation.

"Seen the light, have you?"

"Well, if you _must _know. A friend explained it all perfectly, so no, that's not why we're here"

"I _told you_ they like it!"

"Yeah, well, Lavender likes BDSM, but you don't see her walking around with a whip and a coil of rope on her hip, do you?"

"Eurgh! 'Mione! I didn't need that image!"

"Well bully for you"

"Well, then why are we here? I'm not barging into that kitchen and trying to make them stop working. I'm not doing it—!"

"I'm not asking you too!" Hermione snapped impatiently, "I came down here just now, and I found—oh come _on, _Harry! I want to show you!"

Lunging forward to seize his arm again, Hermione pulled Harry over to stand in front of the painting and stretched out her forefinger. She then proceeded to tickle the large green pear until it squirmed & chuckled and then turned into a giant green door handle. Seizing it, Hermione yanked it open and shoved Harry inside.

Ron and Hermione followed after as the painting closed behind them. The two reached the bottom of the stairs just in time to see Harry get tackled by a very familiar House-elf. "Harry Potter, sir! _Harry Potter!"_

"D-Dobby?" Harry gasped looking down at the little elf in his lap.

"It _is _Dobby, sir, it is!" Squealed Dobby, who was buried in Harry's stomach much like a child. "Dobby has been hoping and hoping to see Harry potter, sir, and Harry Potter has come to see him, sir!"

When Dobby moved back from Harry stared up at him with his great big glittering tennis-ball eyes, Hermione was able to see that the House-elf had garbed himself in the strangest assortment of items. Gone was the ratty pillowcase that most other House-elves wore, instead replaced with a rooster-themed tea cozy for a hat, which had been decorated with numerous bright badges.

There was a tie patterned with horseshoes over his bare chest, a pair of what looked to be children's soccer shorts and odd socks. One of which being the black school sock that Harry had gifted to the elf upon his release from the Malfoy; the other being bright pink and striped with orange.

"Dobby, what are you doing here?" Harry asked amazed.

"Dobby has come to work at Hogwarts, sir!" Dobby excitably squealed, "Headmaster Dumbledore gave Dobby and Windy jobs, sir!"

"Winky? She's here too?"

"Yes, sir, yes!" Dobby seized Harry's hand and dragged him off into the kitchen between the four long tables set parallel to the ones in the Great Hall. Hermione and Ron quietly followed after with Ron munching on a Cauldron cake he had acquired along the way.

At least a hundred or so little elves scurried around the kitchen who beamed, bowed and curtseyed as Dobby led Harry passed them. They were all wearing the same uniform: a tea towel stamped with the Hogwarts crest and tied—as Winky's had been—like a toga. Dobby eventually stopped in front of the brick fireplace and pointed towards the little elf sitting dejectedly in front of the hearth.

"Winky, sir!" Dobby pointed. Winky was sitting on the stool by the fire, but unlike Dobby she had obviously not foraged for clothes. She wore a neatly pleated skirt paired with a blouse and matching blue hat, which had been modified to fit her bat-like ears. It was clear that Winky had not been taking care of her clothes at all; her shirt was decorated in soup stains and a burn in her skirt. It was all rather pathetic really.

"Hullo, Winky" Harry softly greeted. Winky's lip quivered before she burst in tears that spilled out of her great big brown eyes and splashed down her front, just as they had done the World Cup.

"Oh dear" Hermione murmured, "Winky, don't cry, please don't…" But this only served to make the little elf cry harder.

Dobby on the other hand beamed up at Harry like a child proudly showing off something to their parent. "Would Harry Potter like a cup of tea?" He loudly squeaked over Winky's pathetic cries.

"Er—yeah, okay" Harry agreed. Instantly, about six House-elves came trotting up behind him bearing an ornate silver tray laden with teapot, cups, milk and a large plate of assorted biscuits.

"Good service!" Ron crowed, impressed. The elves appeared delighted at that and bowed low before retreating.

"How long have you been here, Dobby?" Harry asked as the elf handed around the tea.

"Only a week, Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby happily replied. "Dobby came to see Headmaster Dumbledore, sir, You see, sir, it is very difficult for House-elf who has been dismissed to get a new position, sir, very difficult indeed—"

At this Winky howled ever harder if it were possible. Her cries pulled at Hermione's heartstrings but she didn't know what she could do; her previous attempts to help only made things worse for the little elf. Snot dribbled from Winky's tomato-squashed nose, though the little elf made no move to wipe it away, and the stringy substance melted into the tears falling from her face. Back next to Harry, Dobby continued to ramble as if Winky's plight wasn't even happening.

"…But most wizards doesn't want a House-elf who wants paying. _'That's not the point of a House-elf' _they says, and they slammed the door in Dobby's face! Dobby likes work, but he wants to wear clothes and he wants to be paid, Harry Potter…Dobby _likes _being free!"

By now, the Hogwarts elves had started to edge away from the little group—but especially from Dobby—as though whatever he had was contagious. Winky however, remained where she was, though their was a definite increase in her wailing.

"And then, Harry Potter, Dobby goes to visit Winky, and finds out Winky has been freed too, sir!" Dobby giggled delightedly; Winky's wailing however, increased into toddler tantrum territory. "And then Dobby had the idea, Harry Potter, sir! '_Why doesn't Dobby and Winky find work together?' _Dobby says. '_Where is there enough work for two House-elves? _Says Winky. And Dobby thinks, and it comes to him, sir! _Hogwarts! _So Dobby and Winky come to see Headmaster Dumbledore, sir, and Headmaster Dumbledore took us on!"

Dobby beamed brightly, happy tears welling up in his eyes as he continued his little tale. "And he says he will pay Dobby, sir, if Dobby wants paying! And so Dobby is a free elf, sir, and Dobby gets a Galleon a week and one day off a month!"

"Is that all?" Hermione tilted her head in question (She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately).

"Headmaster Dumbledore offered Dobby ten Galleons a week and weekends off" Dobby suddenly became quiet and shivered as though the thought of so much leisure and riches were frightening, "But Dobby beat him down, miss…Dobby likes freedom miss, but he isn't wanting too much, miss, he likes work better"

"What about Winky?"

"Winky is having trouble adjusting, miss. Winky forgets she is not bound to Mr Crouch anymore; she is allowed to speak her mind now, but she won't do it"

"Can't House-elves speak their minds about their masters, then?" Harry interjected.

"Oh no, sir, no" Dobby turned rather serious, " 'Tis part of the House-elf's enslavement, sir. We upholds the family's honour, and we never speaks ill of them—though Headmaster Dumbledore told Dobby he does not insist upon this. Headmaster Dumbledore said we is free to—" Dobby beckoned Harry closer with a look of nervousness painted across his features. Harry bent forward so that the elf could whisper in his ear, "He said we is free to call him a—a barmy old codger! But Dobby is not wanting to, Harry Potter. Dobby likes Headmaster Dumbledore very much, sir, and is proud to keep his secrets and our silence for him"

"But you _can _say whatever you like about the Malfoy, right?" Harry grinned.

"Dobby—Dobby could…" Dobby appeared fearful at the thought. "Dobby could tell Harry Potter that his old master were—were—_bad Dark Wizards!"_

Dobby stood frozen for a moment, quivering all over and horror-struck at what had just escaped him own lips—as if he couldn't believe his own daring. Then he rushed over to the nearest table and began banging his head against it. "_Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!" _Harry seized the back of Dobby's tie and hauled him away from the table, Dobby thanked him profusely.

"You just need a bit of practise" Harry brushed off the thanks.

"Practise!" Winky squealed furiously "You is ought to be ashamed of yourself, Dobby, talking that way about your masters!"

"They isn't my masters anymore, Winky!" Dobby defied "Dobby doesn't care what they think anymore!"

"Oh you is a bad elf, Dobby!" Winky moaned, "My poor Mr Crouch! What is he doing without Winky? He is needing me, he is needing my help! I is looking after the Crouches all mylife, and my mother is doing it before me, and my grandmother is doing it before her…oh what is the saying if they knew WInky was freed? Oh the shame! The shame!"

"Well, considering how he was the other day, I'm pretty sure Mr Crouch is doing just fine" Hermione tried to reassure the wailing elf. "We've seen him, Winky, you know—"

"You is seeing my master?" Winky shot up breathless as she goggled at the witch, "You is seeing him here at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, he and Mr Bagman are judges in the Triwizard Tournament"

"Mr Bagman comes too? Mr Bagman is a bad wizard! A very bad wizard! My master isn't liking him! Oh no! Not at all!"

"Bagman—bad?" Harry questioned.

"Oh yes," winky nodded furiously, "My master is telling Winky some things! But Winky is not saying…Winky—Winky keeps her master's secrets…"

Winky dissolved into unconsolable tears once more and was unable to get another word out. The trio left her to her tears and finished off their tea, chatting happily with Dobby about his life thus far. Dobby stated that he wanted to purchase a sweater next, and so Ron offered one of his many maroon-coloured hand-knitted sweaters to the elf. Dobby was enthralled.

As they prepared to take their leave from the kitchens, many of the surrounding elves pressing in upon them offering snacks to take back upstairs. Hermione acquiesced to taking several chocolate-covered pastries as well as several cans of fish which she deftly stuffed to the bottom of her pockets, where they lay amongst several empty packets of Cockroach Clusters.

"Y'know what?" Ron started once he and the others had left the Kitchens behind them and were climbing the steps into the Entrance Hall again "All these years I've been really impressed with Fred and George nicking food from the Kitchens—well, it's not exactly difficult, is it? They can't wait to give it away!"

"It's probably the best thing that could have happened to those elves, you know" Hermione replied, leading the way back up the marble staircase, "Dobby and Winky coming to work here, I mean"

"Yeah, well, Winky didn't seem all that impressed" Harry muttered.

"Oh she'll cheer up! Once the shock's worn off, and she's gotten used to Hogwarts, she'll see how much better off she is without that Crouch man"

"She seems to love him" Ron thickly pointed out (he had just started on one of his cream cakes).

"Doesn't think much of Bagman, though, does she?" Harry replied,"Wonder what Crouch says at home about him?"

"Probably says he's not a very good Head of Department" Said Hermione, "And let's face it…he's got point, hasn't he?"

"I'd still rather work for him than old Crouch" Said Ron, "At least Bagman's got a sense of humour"

"Don't let Percy hear you say that!" Hermione joked teasingly.

"Yeah, well, Percy wouldn't want to work for anyone with a sense of humour, would he?" Ron retorted, now starting on a chocolate eclair. "Percy wouldn't recognise a joe it it danced naked in front of hime wearing Dobby's tea cozy!"

Hermione snorted at the image painted in her head.


	20. Will Ye Go, Lassie?

"POTTER! WEASLEY! _Will you pay attention?!" _McGonagall's irritated voice cracked like a whip though the Transfiguration classroom on Thursday, making several students jump in their seats. Though the end of the lesson had drawn near, (they had been turning guinea fowl into guinea pigs that were neatly lined up in cages on McGonagall's desk and copied down the homework for the week) and McGonagall had yet to release them.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the two boys who sat at the back of the classroom waiting for the bell to ring. The two of them had been caught having a sword fight with a pair of Fred & George's fake wands. Harry with a rubber haddock, and Ron with tin parrot.

_"Now _that Potter and Weasley have been kind enough to act their age" McGonagall steamrolled on, sparing an angry glance in their direction. Harry's haddock dropped silently to the floor where Ron's parrot's beak had severed it moments before, "I have something to say to you all"

She flowed down the aisles and up to the front of the classroom where she peered out at the students before her, "The Yule Ball is fast approaching—a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament, and an opportunity for us to socialise with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open only to fourth years and above—although you may invite a younger student if you wish—"

Lavender let out a shrill giggle and Parvati nudged her hard int he ribs, her own face furiously working not to let out any excitable giggles. The pair both looked over at Harry. McGonagall ignored both witches as she continued on, "Dress robes will be worn and the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas day, at midnight in the Great Hall. Now then—"

McGonagall stared slowly and deliberately around the classroom, her gaze meeting each and every one of her students; from the excited witches to the groaning wizards. "—The Yule Ball is of course, a chance for us all to…er…let our hair down" Hermione bit her lip to hide the smile that threatened to spread across her face at the image of McGonagall letting her hair down, if only because you never saw the straight-laced professor without her grey hair pulled back into a tight bun.

"But that does _NOT _mean," McGonagall went on, "that we will be relaxing the standards of behaviour we expect from Hogwarts students. I will be most seriously displeased if a Gryffindor student embarrassed the school in any way" And with that the bell rang, letting the students disappear from the classroom in a slightly more excitable scuffle than usual.

* * *

**_15 December 1995_**

It had been during one of their (now) nightly swims in the Lake when Viktor had asked her to a date in Hogsmeade Village. Hermione, not quite ready to tell the world about their (kind-of) relationship, had proposed a counter-offer. Considering Viktor's constant bloodhound fans, she had instead suggested a Muggle town a little south of Hogsmeade. Edinburgh was a quaint little city with attractions for all walks of life and it was unlikely that the pair would be followed there.

Since Hogsmeade wasn't actually on Hogwarts' property, there was no way for the staff to know who had or had not left the premises, unless otherwise notified. It was why only third years and above where allowed to travel to Hogsmeade, as they were seen as mature enough to try and not flee (Of course, this didn't always work).

The plan for the date had ended up being a mish-mash of sorts. Hermione planned to take them to Edinburgh zoo (zoos were a relatively new subject in the magical community—courtesy of Newt Scamander—and even then, the creatures weren't physically viewed by the public) and maybe a few other spots as well. Then Viktor decided that the two would return to the Durmstrang ship for dinner.

So on the morning of her date, Hermione stood in front the mirror with dress in one hand and wand in the other. "All right! Let's see what we can do with you!" Hermione murmured as she double-checked the house-wife book she'd nicked from Lavender's trunk the night before. It was still early, so there was no chance that she'd be caught red-handed. In fact, she could still hear Lavender's snores through the weakly-placed enchantments around her bed.

Admittedly, the periwinkle dress _was _rather beautiful as a whole, but it just wasn't Hermione's style—or at least not yet. Double-checking the open book next to her, Hermione soon set to work adjusting the dress that Ginny and Mrs Weasley had pressured her into getting earlier that year.

With careful movements, Hermione shrunk the hem of the dress until the ruffled-layers reached to just above her knees. Next, the sheer sleeves were shorn off, leaving behind the sweetheart bodice and spaghetti straps. And finally, the ribbon tied loosely around her waist was removed. Once satisfied with the dress, Hermione proceeded to put it on.

Twisting and turning in the mirror, she was able to see how the dress hugged her curves in all the right places. The hem of the ruffle-dress spun wildly around her knees, making her feel much more free in it than when she had first tried it on all those months ago. Going over to her trunk, Hermione pulled out a pair of nude stockings, her boots and—after much digging—a large denim jacket.

Topping the entire outfit off with her studs, she finally deemed the outfit done. Flirty and comfortable, Muggle and magical. Perfect. Following breakfast, Hermione met up with Viktor at the gates of Hogwarts and the two set off for their date. Unbeknownst to the two, a little beetle fluttered along behind them.

* * *

The (not-so-sanctioned) trip to Edinburgh had been well worth it in Hermione's opinion, even if the pair had been set upon by Karkaroff the moment they returned to the Durmstrang ship that evening. One would have thought that the Bulgarian headmaster had some sort of strange obsession with Viktor, considering the way he had reacted. Of course Viktor was likely a good source of income and media for the Durmstrang Institute.

As far as Hermione could tell, Viktor had enjoyed the day as well, though he didn't talk much. It seemed like he didn't get the chance to be a regular teen quite often, what with fans around the world always badgering for his attention. It must have been nice for the teen not to be gawked at for once. _And it was great fun watching him feed the giraffes. _Hermione smiled as she remembered the face he had pulled when the young giraffe had leant forth and licked what little hair he had, thinking it was some kind of shrub.

Biting into one of the chocolate-dipped honey cookies, Hermione watched as Viktor used the obnoxiously pink crazy straw he had purchased from the zoo's gift shop, to drink out of his goblet. Not that he was the only one who had walked away from the zoo empty handed. After admitting (a little biasedly) that the otters had been her favourite animal at the sanctuary, Viktor had insisted on purchasing a stuffed replica that wore a bright green vest that was embroidered with the zoo's logo, for her (Hermione had to teach him about Muggle money).

Currently the pair were staked out in the crow's nest of the Durmstrang ship. They were so high up that the glittering stars almost enveloped them. Like you could reach out and touch a star. Dinner had been a lovely affair; instead of food from the Hogwarts kitchens, the House-elves aboard the bobbing Bulgarian ship had presented a lovingly made picnic basket filled with a variety of Bulgarian finger foods and a bottle of Tippler (a fruity whiskey) for the two to share.

After wiping off the crumbs on her fingers, Hermione dipped in the pocket of her jacket and pulled out the bunny-shaped firework that she had purchased earlier that day from Filibuster's Fireworks, in Hogsmeade, whilst she hummed along to _Moon River _under her breath.

Viktor watched her with curious eyes as she dipped the edge of the beautifully folded yellow origami rabbit into her goblet and then, with a quick flick of her wrist, sent the soggy firework sailing into the air. The enchanted paper hopped up into the sky much like a real rabbit would, until it reached a certain height. Once there, it didn't take long for the Wet-start firework to begin exploding into colourful bursts of yellow showers that rained harmlessly down on the pair.

"палавница…" Viktor murmured, head tilting back to watch the little enchanted firework burst into colourful showers amongst the stars.

"Hm?" Hermione hummed, watching the fireworks with sad eyes (Hermione had later learnt that the nickname that Viktor had gifted her with, meant 'minx').

"Vhy are you sad? Is date not fun?"

"No, no it is" Hermione hastily reassured him, "It's just…it's my brother's birthday today. He would've been eleven…"

"палавница…I'm sorry…Vhy did you not say something sooner?"

"It's not something I like to talk about…Mum used to say that the angels took him away because he was too precious to be a person, so they turned him into a star to watch over us instead""

"…Vould he have been magical too?"

"Mm, maybe…Sometimes I like to think he might've been a Hufflepuff, or a Ravenclaw"

"Can…can I ask vhat happened?"

"…There were complications with his birth…" The tears gathering in her eyes began to drip silently down her cheeks, "I only got to hold him once…But I'll remember him. Always"

"Vhat vas his name?" Viktor watched not the glittering stars, but the glittering tears falling down her soft cheeks.

"Lucas. His name was Lucas"

"Dat is good name"

"Yeah, it is"

Viktor leant across the dishes in between them and gently turned Hermione's face towards him; cupping her tear-stained cheeks he began to softly wipe the tears away with his thumb. Hermione

felt in awe of how gentle his rough hands, toughened from all the years of playing Quidditch, were against her wet cheeks.

Her teary brown eyes found themselves glued to his dark eyes, making her wonder how something so dark in colour could feel so safe. Even when all her tears had dried up, Viktor continued to stroke her cheeks in a gentle manner that Hermione felt rather coming. After a moment, he spoke.

"Dis is not best time…but, палавница vill you go to the Yule Ball vith me?" Viktor softly asked. Hermione leant into his gentle hands and closed her eyes for a moment, relishing in the gentle motion of his thumb over her cheek. Even as emotionally vulnerable as she was in that point in time, Hermione knew she enjoyed her time with Viktor.

They'd had fun today, and during their many nightly swims together, and so it was that the answer came much easier than Hermione thought it would. She thinks of how kind Viktor has been to her, she thinks of how a boy noticed _her _and not her looks for the first time, she thinks of how much fun they'd had together over the passed couple of months. Blinking her eyes open and looking up at the Bulgarian through damp lashes, Hermione answered.

"Yes"


	21. Nails, Hair, Hips, Heels

**_22nd December 1995_**

"Hey Otto, you seen this?" Victoria asked, eyes skimming over the article on the front page.

"Hm?" Hermione hummed around a piece of toast, not quite listening to the witch. Victoria pushed the day's _Daily Prophet _into her face. "What am I reading?"

"This" Victoria tapped the article on the front page.

"Oh" Brown eyes trailing over the front page article, Hermione felt her face slacken the further she read on.

**_REPORTER FOUND DEAD AT MUGGLE ZOO_**

_—Marlowe Wiggins, Special Correspondent_

_Beloved writer and reporter of the Daily Prophet, Rita Skeeter was a witch of many talents. On her most recent escapade in reporting on the events of the Triwizard Tournament held this year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Rita Skeeter went missing for several days. Not unheard of for a witch on a mission; however when her employer did not receive her latest article, worry began to brew._

_…It wasn't until news from the Muggle community reached the ears of this reporter, that certain things came to light. On the evening of Saturday 15 December, the remains of one Rita Skeeter was found floating in the small pool of the tiger enclosure at Edinburgh Zoo; what she was doing there, we may never know. _

_The Muggle law-keepers (Policemen) suggested theories of suicide and accidental death, but no solid proof was ever discovered…_

"Wasn't that where you went for you date?" Victoria asked, pushing the food around her plate since she had lost her appetite from reading the article. The firelight from the hearth licked up against the two witches, basing them in the warm glow. Usually, the fire wouldn't be lit this early in the day, even in winter. But the Yule Log—which had been lit earlier in the month— was an exception to this rule.

"Yeah" Hermione replied absentmindedly, enjoying the warmth of the fire "But I didn't see her there. I wonder what happened?"

_Witnesses to the crime described Ms Skeeter suddenly appearing out of thin air, screaming and kicking as she tried to flee the beast who had captured her. Some said she appeared to be heavily wounded already, accounting to some other horrible incident._

"Yuck, that's horrible" Hermione scrunched her nose up in disgust.

"What does it say? I couldn't get passed the picture" Victoria asked.

"Eurgh!" Hermione's face soured further when she saw that the photo presented showed the Aurors levitating her remains out of the sanctuary. Thankfully, they had been covered with a sheet, but the sheet was stained in her blood and a single torn arm had dropped out from underneath it, hanging off of the side like a puppet.

_With no reports of magic performed in the presence of Muggles, the only other option is the use of the transformation, specifically an animagi transformation. But with no registration showing any reference to Ms Skeeter, could it be possible that the witch had knowingly refused to register? This reporter refuses to speak ill of the dead, but it does make one wonder…_

"Uh, they think she was an illegal animagus who got into a sticky situation" Hermione summarised, refusing to go into greater detail.

" '_Sticky situation' _she says," Victoria huffed a laugh, "Yeah, I think that's a bit more than a 'sticky situation!' "

"What? Would you rather I'd have said, _'mauled to death by a tiger?"_

"Eurgh! Yeah, no, _'sticky situation'_ is better"

_…Several Aurors were dispatched to the scene to collect the remains and found their hands full with not only the Policemen, but the workers at the sanctuary and several of the Muggle children who had watched incident unfold. After collecting the remains of Ms Skeeter, several memories had to be modified, allowing the Aurors to finally retreat as darkness fell._

Suddenly a memory came to mind, one of a rather interesting event at the zoo. Hermione and Viktor had been walking through the monkey section of the sanctuary, when one of the emperor tamarin monkies had leapt from the trees onto her shoulder and began to shift through her frizzy hair, grooming her much like it would do for another monkey.

She had jumped in surprise at the time, Viktor had stifled a chuckle and taken a picture of the witch before moving to help unentangle the primate from her locks. However, the monkey hadn't hung around long.

Apparently there had been a rather shiny beetle sitting on her head that had caught the monkey's attention, and as soon as it was in his tiny fist, he was off into the trees once more. She assumed that the monkey hadn't been able to keep ahold of squirming insect as she watched the little primate swing through the trees after its prize, until it reached the end of its enclosure. She and Viktor had laughed it off, and that was the last she ever thought of it. Until now.

_The Ministry has refused to answer any further questions from the Daily Prophet concerning Ms Skeeter's death; but be rest assured, we will not stop until justice has been served!_

"Hey, so are you coming to Hogsmeade today?" Hermione asked the witch across from her who had pushed her bowl of porridge aside in exchange for a plate of berries.

"Yeah, we're going dress shopping, right?" Victoria replied "For the Ball?"

"Yeah. Hey, you never said, who you were going with"

"Neither did you"

"Can't I get a hint?"

"Now where's the fun in that?"

"Grr! I'd ask for more if I knew I wouldn't say the same"

"See? Hey did ya hear about Hopper?"

"No? What's going on with her?"

"She got one of the Veela lads to ask her; one of the younger brothers of one of the girls—uh, Francois something"

_"Really?"_

"Yeah, apparently she started up some conversation about Seelies and Veela with him, and it kinda just spiralled from there"

"Well, good for her. She was really wanting to go, wasn't she?"

"Yeah. But that lad'll have his hands full with her!"

"Well, if he can't handle her, then he's just a raging dick"

"And you know what happens with raging dicks?" Victoria grinned around a strawberry.

"Snip snip!" Hermione laughed, motioning scissors with her fingers. A little ways down, a group of younger boys turned pale at the insinuation.

* * *

"…We _should_ get a move on, you know…ask someone. He's right" Ron was saying to Harry when Hermione emerged from her dormitory, dressed and ready for the day. "We don't want to end up with a pair of trolls"

"A pair of…_what, _excuse me?" Hermione spluttered indignantly as she rounded on her ginger-haired friend. Harry, wisely, kept his mouth shut.

"Well—y'know" Ron shrugged, "I'd rather go alone than with—Eloise Midgen, say"

"Her acne's loads better lately—and she's really nice!" Hermione defended.

"Her nose is off-center"

_"Oh, _I see" Hermione bristled, "So basically you're going to take the best-looking girl who'll have you, even if she's completely horrible?"

"Er—yeah sounds about right"

"Urgh! Seriously!" Hermione stormed out of the common room, curls swinging behind her as she left the thick-headed boy behind her.

"What's her deal?"

* * *

"Hurry up, witches!" Charlotte called, wildly waving her hand in the air where she stood next to the other coven members.

"Hold your horses!" Hermione called as she, Victoria and Luna made their way over to the gaggle of witches gathered at Hogwarts' gates. By this point, her anger at Ron had dissipated into anticipation and excitement for the day's shopping trip. "We're coming!"

"C'me on! All the good dresses will be gone!" Lila added, weaving her arm through Charlotte's.

"All right! All right! So impatient!" Victoria huffed, crossing her arms against the cold morning.

"So where are we going first?" Hermione asked as the witches began to trudge through the snow towards the village.

"Well, I reckon we should hit up _Gladrags _first" Emilia replied, trying her best not to slip over an icy patch "It'll be hell later on today, when everyone comes down for lunch and stuff. So maybe there first, and then hit up some of the smaller boutiques?"

"Ooh! Like _Spider Spun! _Or _Sky High Heels!" _Sophie spun around, walking backwards as she talked excitedly.

"What about _Kneazle Knickerbockers?" _Hermione suggested.

"Ooh! Planning a little something for your date, Otto?" Charlotte wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh shove off!" Hermione joking pushed the 'Puffs shoulder, "Nah, I've been needing to get a new bikini. I just figured while we're here. _Although,_ depending on what style I go for, I might need a new bra…"

"And everyone knows, how great you feel when your knickers match your bra!" Emilia piped up.

"Yeah, that is true" Hermione nodded. For some reason no woman could explain, wearing a matching set made you feel like you could rule the world.

"Oof! Bit of a crowd" Luna murmured, "Looks like we weren't the only ones with the same idea" Upon reaching the village, Hermione was able to see that all manner of school age witches had made a beeline for _Gladrags_. Several of the witches gathered, held mugs of tea or coffee; some even held a pitcher or two of butterbeer as they waited outside for the store to open. Large brightly coloured posters were plaster to the glass promoting ball-season sales, and last minute Yule deals.

"Whelp, we better get in line then" Victoria clapped her hands, looking ready to elbow her way through the crowds if necessary.

No sooner had the doors opened, did the gathered witches stormed inside with several rampaging towards the brightly coloured racks at the front of the room. Like witches on a mission, the coven entered the store and elbowed their way through the throngs of witches already arguing over dress robes. Ducking beneath the wildly flailing limbs of a squabbling witch, Hermione made her way to the back of the store where many of the discount dresses lay.

Unlike the dress robes at the front of the store which were more or less styled in complicated Edwardian and Victorian styles that were popular within the magical community; the discounted ones at the back were styled more towards those found in the Muggle community. Although not hugely popular with Pureblooded witches (usually those who could afford more than one dress per event), they were quite popular with the Muggleborn and some of the Halfblood witches hence why they were kept in the back; out of sight and out of mind.

Perusing the racks of colourful material, Hermione let her hands trail over the various textures as she tried to find the one for her. Silk, tulle, lace, velvet; so many options, so little time! Pulling little blue number with a sweetheart neckline from the rack, she placed it over her arm and continued to search for other options. A sleek black dress joined the blue one, then a pink ruffled number, and green mermaid dress. Soon enough the collection hanging over her arm was becoming to hard to hold onto.

Weaving her way around some mannequins Hermione eventually found herself waiting in line for one of the changing rooms tucked in the back corner of the store. She didn't have to wait for long, most of the other witches had chosen to use the ones closest to the front where all their friends were gathered giggling like mad.

After pulling off her many layers of clothes and folding them into a pile which she placed in a corner with her shoes, Hermione went about putting on the first dress. It was the blue cocktail dress with a sweetheart neckline she had first pulled. _Well, it's pretty, but it's not really Ball material. _Hermione mused as she twirled back and forth, trying to a get of the whole thing.

That one was soon exchanged for nude and black polka dot gown that looked like it had stepped straight out of the 50s. _Mm, not this one either. _And so dress after dress was tossed aside, never quite meeting the right criteria. Too sheer, too tight, too short, too long, too nude, too dark, too prude, too slutty, and so on. Until she finally reached the end of her pile.

Hermione could hear the witches outside getting antsy for their turn there were only so many changing rooms in the store, and more witches were flooding in every other hour. It was a surprise that anyone could move, for all the elbows-in-the-ribs and heels-on-the-toes. And so it was that she turned to the last dress in her pile.

She had picked the burgundy dress as nothing more than a flight of fancy. It wasn't usually the type of style she would go for, but she had liked the colour and the neckline. Slipping it on, Hermione was able to appreciate the simplicity of the style. The length of the satin gown reached all the way to the floor and would need some tailoring to shorten it a little, but that was nothing a little magic or a sewing machine couldn't fix.

The sweetheart neckline cut off into off-the-shoulder sleeves that sat snug against her forearms, and was matched by the cut-out on the back of the dress, which rested just below her collarbones, showing off her tattoo. Hermione particularly liked the subtle boning which lined the bodice of the dress, and kept everything packed in nice and tight. All-in-all, the dress had a slightly medieval feel to it, and Hermione loved it even more; like it was walking the line between magical and muggle.

_I might not have to wear a bra with this. _Hermione mused as she jumped up and down to see if the dress would slide down when she moved around. _Maybe just some pasties?_

The burgundy colour suited her well, complimenting her skin tone and—with a little note of pride—she knew that it would match well with what Viktor was going to wear, (he had told her that all of the Durmstrang lads would be wearing their most formal school robes—ones that were usually saved for big events, such as graduation).

_Oh yes! This one! I like this one! Ooh! And I've got that wreath headband from Luna, that I can wear—they'll go well with my earrings. _Hermione thought of the dangly earrings she had inherited from her mother._ Now I just need to worry about shoes…and maybe underwear…_

Dressing once more in her mufti clothes, Hermione headed for the counter where she paid for her dress, and then outside into the quiet village where she waited for the other girls to be done with their shopping. There was _no way_ she was going to be able to find them in that chaos; not even if she had a bloodhound or a tracking spell! Time seemed to fly by, and before she knew it lunchtime had rolled around and the coven had found themselves squeezed around a table at _The Three Broomsticks _with their purchases tucked away at their feet.

* * *

After picking apart several baskets of chips and downing a mug of two of butterbeer, the girls split apart to finish up their shopping. Some went off towards little boutiques to find a clutch or some jewellery, whilst others turned to look for the right lingerie that would fit beneath their gowns, and others just returned to the castle, intent on relaxing behind warm walls.

The rest of Hermione's afternoon was filled with laughter and joking flirtations passed back and forth as she and Luna scanned the aisles of _Kneazle Knickerbockers _for the right lingerie to match their dresses. Sometimes, she'd find something that just seemed too ridiculous, that she couldn't help but show the blonde, who in turn would find something even more outrageous and the two would dissolve into fits of giggles as they tried to figure out how you would even operate them.

In the end, Hermione had walked away with a new high-waisted bikini that was black in colour, but printed with bright floral patterns; and a new lacy bra and panties set, plus the set of pasties. For jewellery she planned to use the silver wreath headband that had been a birthday gift from Luna, and a pair of dangly earrings she'd inherited from her mother.

Instead of a clutch purse, she had decided she would use her little drawstring pouch, which she could string through the belt loops at her hips—a little bit of colour transfiguration would be necessary, however. And finally, a pair of silver three inch heels topped off the whole ensemble. Although they wouldn't be seen due to the length of the skirt, it gave her a bit of much needed height so that—even with the altered hemline—she wouldn't be in danger of constantly tripping over it.

* * *

When Hermione eventually returned to Gryffindor tower, she came across Ron who sat ashen-faced in the corner of the common room where he was surrounded by his siblings and anyone who had come to gawk at him. Both he and Harry had been laughing jovially at something previously said. "Why weren't you two at dinner?" Hermione asked coming over to join them.

"Because—oh _shut up,_ you two!—because they've both just been turned down by girls they asked to the ball!" Ginny replied, quickly snuffing out the laughter form the two boys.

"Thanks a bunch, Ginny" Said Ron sourly.

"All the good-looking ones taken, Ron?" Hermione sassed, "Eloise Midgen starting to look quite pretty now, is she? Well, I'm sure you'll find someone _somewhere _who'll have you"

"Hermione, Neville's right—you _are _a girl…" Ron was looking at the witch in a whole new light, as if had just dawned on him.

"Oh well spotted" Hermione replied acidly.

"Well—you can come with one of us!"

"No, I can't" She snapped.

"Oh come on" He said impatiently, "we need partners, we're going to look really stupid if we haven't got any and everyone else has…"

"I can't come with you" Hermione was now fighting the blush that was crawling across her cheeks, "because I'm already going with someone else"

"No, you're not! You just said that to get rid of Neville!"

"Oh _did _I?" Her eyes flashed dangerously as she glared down at the redhead, "Just because it's taken _you _three years to notice, Ronald, doesn't mean no one _else _has spotted I'm a girl!"

"…Okay, okay, we know you're a girl" Ron stared at her for a moment before grinning. "That do? Will you come now?"

"How are you so thick-headed? I'm _not_ going with _you!_ I'm going with someone _else!"_

"Ooh! Is it this secret snogger we've heard nothing about?" Ginny asked, leaning forward. Hermione blushed scarlet.

"I-I'm going to bed!"


	22. These Heels are made for Dancing

Snow was falling thickly upon the stone castle and its grounds by now. The pale blue Beauxbatons carriage looked like a large frosted pumpkin next to the iced gingerbread house that was Hagrid's cabin and the Durmstrang ship's portholes were glazed over in ice, the rigging white with frost. The House-elves had outdone themselves this year with a series of heartwarming stews and savoury puddings that left only the French witches, such as Fleur, complaining about the richness of the food.

"It is too 'eavy, all his 'Ogwarts food" You'd hear her complain as she left the Great Hall on many an occasion. "I will not fit into my dress robes!"

"Ooh! There's a tragedy" Hermione murmured snappishly as they passed by the complaining witch, "She really thinks a lot of herself, that one, doesn't she?"

"Hermione, who are you going to the ball with?" Said Ron. He kept springing this question on her, hoping to startle her into a response by asking it when she was least expecting it. However, Hermione merely frowned at the question.

"I'm not telling you, you'll just make fun of me"

"You're joking, Weasley!" Malfoy couldn't help but call out from behind them, "You're not telling me someone's asked _that _to the ball? Not the long-molared Mudblood?"

Both Harry and Ron whipped around to defend their friend, but Hermione bet both of them to the punch. "Hello, Professor Moody!" She called waving at someone over Malfoy's shoulder. Malfoy instantly grew pale and jumped backward, looking around wildly for Moody only to find him still sitting up at the teachers' table. "Twitchy little ferret, _aren't you,_ Malfoy?"

The three climbed up the marble staircase, laughing heartily as they went, making jokes about the blonde Slytherin and imitating his face in exaggerating expressions. "Hermione," Ron said, looking sideways at her and suddenly frowning, "your teeth…"

"What about them?" She asked.

"Well, they're different…I've just noticed…"

"Of course they are—what? Did you expect me to keep those fangs Malfoy gave to me?"

"No, I mean, they're different to how they were before he hexed you…They're all straight and—and normal-sized"

Hermione smiled mischievously. "Caught on, have you? Took you long enough" It was one she didn't usually share with the boys; if only because they were so thick-headed and only ever talked about three things: Quidditch, homework and the latest deathly threat on Harry. "Well…when I went up to Madam Pomfrey to get them shrunk, she held up a mirror and told me to stop her when they were back to how they normally were. And I just…let her carry on a bit" She smiled wider, "Mum and Dad won't be too pleased; I've been trying to persuade them to let me shrink them for ages, but they wanted me to carry on with my braces. Y'know, they're dentists, they just don't think teeth and magic should—look! Pigwidgeon's back!"

The tiny twittering owl was seated atop one of the icicle-laden banisters, a scroll of parchment tied to his leg. People passing by him were pointing and laughing, and a group of third-year girls paused and said, "Oh look at the weeny owl! Isn't he _cute?"_

"Stupid feathery git!" Ron hissed, hurrying up the stairs and snatching the owl from the banister, "You bring the letters to the addressee! You don't hang around showing off!"

The third-year girls scurried off looking rather scandalised at how Ron treated his owl, but the little bird just hooted happily when he was waved around like a child's toy. "Here—take it, Harry" Ron thrust Sirius' letter to the boy who pocketed it and they hurried back to Gryffindor tower to read it. Luckily, everyone in the common room was much to busy in letting off the holiday steam to observe what anyone else was up to.

Hermione tucked herself in between Ron and Harry off to the side, in the little alcove under the stairs, as Harry read out the letter from Sirius. "Well, go on, Harry" Ron pushed before they even sat down, "What's Si—Paddy say?"

"Whose Paddy?" Seamus asked, catching the last bit of the trio's conversation as he passed by with arms laden with food from the kitchens.

"Uh—" Ron mumbled, suddenly at a loss for words.

"—He's my uncle" Hermione cut in, stepping on Ron's toes in warning.

"Your uncle? But I thought you said your family was German?"

"Yeah, they are" Hermione grinned, "But Uncle Paddy is about 4 foot with green hair and can drink anyone under the table. So, y'know…"

"Ha! That sounds like my uncle too! And my Ma…" Seamus trailed off, as he wander back upstairs.

"Quick thinking, 'Mione!" Harry relaxed into his seat as he looked over the slightly crumpled letter in his hands.

"Oh, I wasn't lying. I really did have an Uncle Paddy" Hermione replied.

"What?"

"Yeah, 'til he was hit by a cab. Auntie Gary was devastated"

"Auntie Gary?" Ron puzzled.

"Mm, it's my mum's nickname for her. Auntie Gary's had so much botox that she looks like Gary Glitter"

"Ha!" Harry snorted at the image.

"Whose Gary Glitter?" Ron questioned.

"I'll show ya later" Hermione murmured back as Harry began to quietly read the letter out to the two:

_Dear Harry,_

_Congrats on getting passed the Horntail! Whoever put your name in that goblet shouldn't be feeling too happy right now! I was going to suggest a Conjunctivitis Curse—a dragon's eyes are its weakest point—_

"That's what Vi—Krum did!" Hermione whispered, only slightly stumbling over his name when she remembered that she had yet to tell the two about her relationship with the Bulgarian Seeker.

_—But your way was better, I'm impressed. Don't get complacent, though, Harry. You've only down one task; whoever put your name in the tournament's got plenty more opportunity if they're trying to hurt you. Keep your eyes open—particularly when the person we discussed is around—and concentrate on keeping yourself out of trouble._

_Keep in touch, I still want to hear about anything unusual._

"He sound exactly like Moody" Harry grumbled quietly, tucking the letter inside his robes, _"Constant vigilance!' _You'd think I walk around with my eyes shut, banging off of the walls…"

"But he's right, Harry" Said Hermione, ever the moral-compass "you _have _still got two task to do. You really ought to have a look at that egg, you know, and start working out what it means…"

"Hermione, he's got ages!" Snapped Ron, "Want a game of chess, Harry?"

"Yeah, okay" Agreed Harry. When he spotted the disapproving look on Hermione's face, the bespectacled wizard turned to her, "C'me on, how'm I s'posed to concentrate with all this noise going on? I won't even be able to hear the egg over this lot"

Hermione childishly grumbled her reply and just sat back to watch the two boys play their game of chess; which culminated in an exaggerated checkmate of Ron's pieces, which invoked a couple of recklessly brave pawns and a very violent bishop.

* * *

"Mrrow!" Purred Crookshanks, nuzzling his pudgy little face against Hermione's when she awoke on Christmas morning to being smothered by her familiar.

"Morning…C-Crooks" Hermione yawned, scratching the cat in that little spot under his chin that he liked. "Happy Christmas!"

At the foot of her bed sat a pile of presents that the House-elves had left during the wee hours of the morning, when the owls from home had arrived. Amongst the usual collection of books and clothes from her friends and family, Hermione had received a few notable items. There was the cheques of money from her remaining grandparents, extended family members had joined together to gift her with a substantial amount of Muggle money, plus toys and a new collar for Crookshanks (red and green with a bow on the back and a silver bell on the front, next to his name tag).

Her parents had sent a package of floral dresses and shirts (some of them looked to have come straight out of her mother's wardrobe), plus a couple of new books from a Muggle author they thought she'd like. Ron and Harry had, predictably, given her a collection of sweets from Honeydukes (mostly Sugar Quills and chocolate). Mrs Weasley's Christmas package contained the year's new Christmas sweater (grey and had been polka-dotted with pink love hearts—Hermione supposed that Ginny had mentioned her secret admirer, in one of her letters), and a large quantity of homemade mince pies.

Shifting through the discarded wrapping paper (that Crookshanks was having a grand ole time ripping to shreds), Hermione found the last of her presents stacked together. From Emilia she received a pocket-sized Wizarding Wireless Radio complete with a few Wizarding cassettes that included a note that told her to listen to her favourites.

Hermione chuckled at the joke presents she received from Charlotte and Sophie—both of course, pertaining to her new cravings as an otter animagus. However, the Cockroach Clusters, chocolate fish, tinned fish and caramelised/roasted insects would still be eaten (something that definitely would've made her stomach turn last year—willingly eating bugs? No thanks!).

"Oh my Hecate…" Hermione whispered slightly embarrassed at what Luna had sent her. Inside the chaotically patterned wrapping paper lay one of the complicated pieces of lingerie the two witches had laughed over some days prior. Not only that but an obnoxiously pink dildo lay next to it; one that started vibrating rather loudly when she bumped it. "Ah! No! Shush!" She hurried to turn it off before she woke her roommates.

"Phew…okay" She sighed when she was finally able to turn off the vibrating monstrosity. Slipping Luna's gift under her pillow, she turned to the last two in front of her. Reaching for the smaller the two, Hermione saw that it was from Victoria and after unwrapping it, felt the blush instantly crawl across her cheeks. In her hands sat a miniature sculpture of Lupin made completely of chocolate alongside several boxes of Honeydukes/Muggle chocolates. The note attached read:

_Otto,_

_So you don't have to steal his stash anymore!_

_Whiskers_

"Cheeky…" Hermione grinned, setting the chocolate aside making note to either eat it quickly or hide it away. She did _not _need Lavender seeing that or she would get all sorts of ideas. The last present was wrapped in Quidditch-themed paper and was addressed to her rough writing. Viktor's gift was simple and sweet; much like many of her friends and family he had gotten her a book, only this one pertained to old magics. "He remembered…" She smiled, thinking back to when he had sensually traced her Triple Goddess tattoo whilst they had laid on the rocky lakeside. Alongside the book, he had gifted her with a silver arm cuff that was designed to look like a leafy vine wrapped around her upper arm. It was beautifully simple.

Later that day, Hermione met up with Harry and Ron in the common room where they spent most of the morning watching enjoying their presents before they went down to the Great Hall for lunch. There was no Christmas dinner today, as the ball would include a feast, so the House-elves had gone all out for the lunch. Christmas lunch had been fantastic; all the tables were lined with hundreds of turkeys and honey-glazed hams and roasted chickens, with Christmas puddings and mince pies dotted throughout the spare spaces. There was even large piles of Cribbage's Wizarding Crackers spread out around the tables, filling the Great Hall with the sound of bangs and pops when they were broken open.

When the afternoon rolled around, the trio went out onto the grounds where the snow lay untouched except for the deep channels made by the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students going to and from their accomodations. With brightly coloured paper hats on their heads and full bellies, they met up with Fred, George and Ginny, and quickly fell into a snowball war that ended in joyous laughter and teasing taunts.

When five o'clock sprung upon them, Hermione announced that she and Ginny were heading back to the castle to get ready for the Yule Ball. "What, you need three hours?" Ron asked incredulously, and paid for his lapse in concentration when a large snowball, thrown by George, nailed him in the back of the head. "Who're you going with?" He yelled after the witches, but Hermione merely waved over her shoulder. Ginny flipped him the bird and tottered off after Hermione.

Upon arriving at the portrait hole, the two witches found that the Fat Lady had already started her celebrations with her friend, Violet from downstairs, and the two were lounging around her frame with several boxes of empty chocolate liquors between the two witches. "Fairy lights" Hermione supplied the password.

"Lairy fights! That's the one!" Giggled the Fat Lady and swung forward to let them inside.

The first thing that Hermione had done upon returning to her dorm room was head straight for the showers with a bottle of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion and her new Wizarding Wireless radio. After transfiguring one of the soap dishes into a porcelain clawed bath; it was filled with a combination of floral bath salts, oils and several slices of citrus. Several of the floating candles were lit and dripped wax down onto the floor, but Hermione paid them no mind as she stepped into the tub. With one of Emilia's _Weird Sisters _cassettes echoing around the cavernous room, Hermione relaxed into the water and left herself to soak.

* * *

When the dusk began to melt into night and her fingers were all wrinkly, Hermione finally removed herself from the bathtub. A quick rinse in the shower got rid of the lingering bath salts and pulp still stuck to her skin, and a quick drying charm took care of the wet hair plastered to her neck. Wrapped up in fluffy towel, she came out of the bubble-filled bathroom and emerged into a whirlwind of make-up and hair.

Lavender and Parvati had commandeered the large chestnut vanity leaving Hermione to deal with the Talking Mirror, which had thankfully long since lost its voice. Turning away from the mirror, Hermione moved over to her pouch that sat on her bed. Closing all of her curtains and after making sure that they were enchanted shut, she descended into the depths of her pouch where her burgundy off-the-shoulder dress was hung from the doorway.

Drifting to the bathroom in the back of the house, Hermione set to work doing her hair and make-up. With her hair now free of its usual tight curls, she was able to mould it into a more manageable hair-do that was suitable for the Ball. After a couple of tries Hermione was able to braid back her hair into two waterfall plaits. Following that, she pulled her plaits into braided space buns that sat at the base of her head. A couple of wisps fell from the do, and she left them to fall where they may.

Make-up had never been one of Hermione's strongest suits, so she decided to just go with the bare minimum. A little blush here, a little mascara there, lips lined with red, eyes popped with honey-coloured eye shadow and framed by long lashes. A quick _Tempus _charm showed that she had about an hour left to get changed.

Moving out of the bathroom, after making a detour to her bedroom where she retrieved her jewellery and shoes, Hermione returned to the main room where her dress hung from the doorway. Placing the Wizarding Wireless next to her father's boombox, Hermione danced around the kitchen in nothing but her towel as Annie Lennox's _'I Put a Spell on You' _prattled out. Bopping along to the tune, she laid out her jewellery pieces on the dining table along with the shoes and pasties she planned to wear. "All right!" She clapped her hands, "Let's get started!"

Due to the swooping nature of the skirt, she was able to wear underwear that she felt comfortable in, instead of a thong or a g-string like she had worried. _Who wanted to spend the night with a string up their butt?…Well, Emilia might, but that's another story…_Hermione shook off the image as she slipped on the lacy pair of underwear before she started to try and place the finicky pasties on her nipples.

When she was finally happy with how they sat, she next turned to her shoes. The heels were a gorgeous silver in colour with a three-inch wedged heel, (Sophie had complained many a-time about the uncomfortableness of stilettos and pressed her to get wedges or at least something with a wide based heel). Whilst her toes remained uncovered, the straps covering the front of her foot were styled in a gladiator imitation of matted silver.

Next went her wand holster. Instead of it sitting on her forearm or in her hair like it usually was, she had strapped her holster to her outer right thigh. There it would be nicely hidden by the dress, but was easily accessible through the small pocket that had been craftily altered for this very reason.

Following the undergarments came the dress. After unzipping the back, she stepped into it making sure not to get her heels caught on the little sleeves or the long skirt. Eventually—after much fiddling with the zipper—she had the dress on. Twirling around, she was happy with the new length of the dress, falling only mere centimetres from the ground. Long enough that it covered her feet, but short enough that she was sure she would be able to move without tripping over it. Another feature of the dress that she enjoyed was how the back of the dress dipped low enough for you to view her coven tattoo in its dormant state.

Finally came the jewellery. First she exchanged her usual moon studs for the pair of dangly pair of earrings she had inherited from her mother. Made of several layers of silver leaves, the earrings were no longer than her thumb and each ended in a small silver bell that tinkled softly as she moved. The leafy cuff she had received from Viktor was slipped onto her right forearm, where it snugly sat against the skin. To top it all off, she placed the silver wreath headband (a birthday gift from Luna) on her head, completing the look.

The egg timer she had set upon arrival, went off, telling her that she should be making her way back to the dorm if she wanted to get to the Great Hall on time. Climbing up the two-step ladder in heels was a lot harder than Hermione ever thought it would be, but soon enough she was back on her bed and brushing down the last of the wrinkles on the skirt after scooting off of the bed.

After sliding her wand into the holster at her thigh, Hermione turned back to her bed and pulled the drawstrings shut on her pouch. Following the purchase of her new dress, she had transfigured the outside to a burgundy red that matched her dress and a quick _Scourgify _had seen to the cat fur or anonymous stains on the material. Looping the strings through the belt loops on her hips, Hermione pulled the small bag around until it rested comfortably at her left hip.

Looking herself over in the Talking Mirror, she saw not the bookish witch who loved florals that she had come to know, but instead a princess or a lady who had stepped straight out from one of her childhood fairy tale books. Most—like Ron— didn't think she was actually attending the Ball because she couldn't find a date, or because she was too proud to say who she was going with. _I'll make their jaws drop tonight! _She smirked vindictively, _They'll wish they were me!_

Lavender and Parvati had left earlier to meet up with dates, having snagged lads from different Houses and agreeing to meet up with them at the Great Hall. Parvati had somehow gotten Harry, whilst Lavender was going with a Hufflepuff she had been cooing over for weeks on end. Hermione was pretty sure she could tell you the boy's favourite uncle—and she had never even met him! After double-checking that she had everything, Hermione too, headed down to the Great Hall.

* * *

Nerves abound, Hermione ended up meeting Viktor not at the Great Hall as planned, but out on the lawn in front of the castle where the other Durmstrang lads and their dates were lining up behind Karkaroff to make a grand entrance. The section of lawn that she could see had been transformed into a sort-of fairy grotto full of fairy lights (meaning hundreds of _actual living fairies _were sitting in the rosebushes conjured there, and fluttering over the statues of Father Christmas and his reindeer).

"Sei still, mine schlagende vagina…" Hermione breathed quietly, tickled pink as she looked over the structured dress robes of the Durmstrang lads as they came up the frosty path. Although they all wore the same variation of formal dress robes, each wizard had personalised their own robes to fit themselves. In Viktor's case, the red shirt, belted at the waist, clung to his figure just right, outlining his sharp edges and tall figure. The neatly trimmed fur-lined cape of the same red hung effortlessly from his left shoulder and was held there by another belt which ran across his chest. Dark pants tucked into black dragon hide boots completed the ensemble.

Looking at him as a whole, it was easy to see the homage he was paying to his homeland as well as the little nod towards traditional Christmas customs. The fact that the pair of them matched the colour of their outfits within the same shade, certainly helped to signify the couple's partnership even if they never verbally said so themselves.

"палавница" Viktor came forth and very gentlemanly kissed her knuckles, his own cheeks coloured slightly as his eyes roved over her form. Mindless of the stares that they were receiving from others around them (Karkaroff being one of them), he tucked her arm into the crook of his elbow. Hermione was pleased to note that more than one person they passed had physically dropped their jaw. "You look…"

"Thank you" Hermione smiled, "You clean up nicely, as well"

Soon enough, the front oak doors opened and all eyes were on them. With Karkaroff at the helm, the witches and wizards descended into the Entrance Hall with heads held high. Students milled around as they waited for eight o'clock to arrive, many of them hurrying about as they tried to find the dates they had procured in the days prior.

"Champions! Over here, please!" McGonagall's voice called, breaking Hermione from her musings; though at the sight of the Transfiguration, tried not to do a double-take at what she was seeing. The Professor had garbed herself in dress robes of red tartan and had arranged a rather ugly wreath of thistles around the brim of her hat; clearly she was showing her own patronage to her homeland as well.

Shooing the champions over to one side of the room, they were told to wait their with their dates whilst everyone else went in and found a place to sit. They were to enter the Great Hall in procession with Fleur & Roger Davies stationed at the front and Harry & Parvati at the back.

Glancing over everyone's partners, Hermione saw that Davies looked so stunned by his good fortune in having Fleur for a partner that he could hardly take his eyes off of her. _Probably the Veela in her. _Hermione mused. Then there was Cedric and Cho Chang (Harry's current crush, though the boy would _never _say anything) who appeared smitten with each other. And finally there was Harry and Parvati, who had gone for robes of black and white and hot pink that were accented in shocking orange and bangles of gold respectively.

"Hi Harry!" Hermione waved to her friend and his date when she and Viktor joined up with the other champions, "Hi Parvati!" Parvati was gazing at Hermione in unabashedly disbelief and she hadn't been the only one. When the doors to the Great Hall had opened, Viktor's fan club had glared at her when they had stalked passed, tugging on their dates' arms as they went; but for once, Hermione couldn't care less. Pansy had gaped as she passed by on Malfoy's arm; and even he hadn't been able to throw a single insult her way, which was a nice change. Ron, however, had glared sourly at the pair before walking straight through the doors without looking back.

Once everyone else was settled in the Hall, McGonagall returned to tell the champions and their partners to get in line and follow her. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as Hermione clutched onto Viktor's arm and prayed that she wouldn't fall on her ass in front of everyone. The procession of champions and their dates followed after the elder witch and everyone in the Great Hall applauded at their entrance, even up until they sat down at the large round table at the top of the Hall where the judges were sitting.

Glancing around as they walked, Hermione was able to see that the Great Hall had been covered in sparkling silver frost with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy that crossed the starry black ceiling. The House tables had removed, instead replaced with around a hundred small round lantern-lit tables that each easily sat about dozen or so.

Dumbledore smiled happily as the champions approached the top table, but Karkaroff wore a sour expression that was remarkably similar to Ron's as he watched Hermione and Viktor draw nearer. Bagma—tonight in robes of bright purple dotted with large yellow stars—was clapping as enthusiastically as the students; and Maxime, who had exchanged her usual black satin gown for a flowing gown of lavender silk, was applauding politely. Mr Crouch wasn't there, but Percy Weasley was and wearing a look of smugness that Hermione had never known.

When the champions and their partners reached the table, Viktor kindly pulled out Hermione's chair for her before sitting himself down beside her. All around them, witches and wizards seated themselves around the judges already gathered at the table, many already engaging in conversation or staring around at the decorated Hall.

Unlike regular feasts at Hogwarts, the food had yet to arrive on the glittering golden plates, but there were small menus lying in front of each of them. Each item on the menus had been written in all three native languages of the Wizarding schools, which Hermione thought was a nice touch. Picking up her own menu, Hermione cracked it open but looked around uncertainly as she was unable to see any waiters or servers of any kind.

Dumbledore, however, looked carefully down at his own menu before declaring "Pork chops!" towards his plate, and sure enough, pork chops appeared. Getting the idea, the rest of the table placed their orders as well, along with the rest of the students in the Hall.

Although, Hermione had chosen the schnitzel, she ended up picking at more than anything as she was drawn into a conversation with Viktor. "…Vell, ve have a castle also, not as big as dis, nor as comfortable, I am dinking" He told Hermione, "Ve have just four floors, and the fire are lit only for magical purposes. But ve have grounds ever larger dan dese—dough in vinter, ve have very little daylight, so ve are not enjoying dim. But in summer ve are flying everyday over the lakes and mountains—"

"Now, now, Viktor!" Karkaroff laughed, his smile not reaching his cold eyes. "Don't go giving away anything else now, or your charming friend will know exactly where to find us!"

"Igor, all this secrecy…" Dumbledore replied with eyes twinkling before Hermione was able to, "One would almost think you didn't want visitors"

"Vell, Dumbeldore, ve are all protective of our private domains, are we not? Do ve not jealously guard the halls of learning that have been entrusted to us? Are ve not right to be proud that ve alone know our school's secrets, and the right to protect them?"

"Oh I would _never_ dream of assuming I know all Hogwarts' secrets, Igor. Only this morning, for instance, I took a wrong turn to the bathroom and found myself in a beautifully proportioned room I have never seen before, containing a really rather magnificent collection of chamber pots—"

Hermione tried to hide her grin behind her goblet as the Hogwarts' headmaster continued to prattle on about loos, "—When I went back to investigate more closely, the room had vanished. But I must keep an eye out for it. Possibly as it is the only accessible bathroom at five-thirty in the morning. Or it may only appear at the quarter moon—or when the seeker has an exceptionally full bladder"

Across the table, Harry snorted into his goulash whilst Percy frowned at the blatant disrespect shown towards the foreign headmaster. Meanwhile Fleur was criticising Hogwarts _again. _This time it seemed to be the decorations; only Davies held her ear.

"Zis is nothing" She waved dismissively, "At ze Palace of Beauxbatons, we 'ave ice sculptures all around ze dining chamber at Christmas. Zey do not melt, of course…zey are like 'uge statues of diamond, glittering around ze place. And ze food is seemply superb. And we 'ave choirs of wood nymphs 'oo serenade us as we eat. We 'ave none of his ugly armour in ze 'alls, and elf a poltergeist ever entaired into Beauxbatons, 'e would be expelled like _zat" _She snapped her fingers, solidifying her point.

Davies appeared to be only watching and not listening to the French witch, a very dazed look upon his face and he kept missing his mouth with his fork. Fleur didn't seem to notice, too busy complaining about the "ugly castle" that was Hogwarts. It was clear to Hermione that the wizard was paying her words no mind, however. Ron had worn a similar look many a-time; usually when he was thinking about food or Quidditch—or lately, Krum.

It was rather easy to pick out Hagrid amongst the other tables; his large stature easily towering over those he sat with. He dressed in the horribly hairy brown suit he had worn to Buckbeak's trial last year, and was gazing up at the top table. He gave a small wave which was returned by Maxime whose opal eyes glittered in the candlelight.

When all the food had been consumed, Dumbledore stood up and asked the students to join him. Then, with a wave of his wand all the tables zoomed over to the back walls where they stacked themselves in neat piles, leaving the floor clear. With another flick of the wrist, he conjured a raised platform into existence along the front of the Hall, where the staff table usually sat. A set of drurms, several guitars, a lute, a cello and some bagpipes were set upon it.

From the side chambers (where the Champions had been escorted to on the first night after the choosing) _The Weird Sisters_ trooped up onto the stage with wild applause and cheers following them. All of the band members were rather hairy and dressed in black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn, reminding Hermione of the grunge trend that was rather popular in the Muggle community.

"палавница, may I have this dance?" Viktor offered his hand to Hermione, pulling the grinning witch from her seat and over to the dance floor where the other Champions were lining up with their partners. Hands settling on waist and shoulder, the chosen witches and wizards began to dance to the gentle waltz being played by the band. Cleary not a piece that was usually in their wheelhouse, _The Weird Sisters _played the three-beat music for them as they spun, twisted and glided across the dance floor. By this point, the other students had gathered around them in a ring, watching them officially open the Ball. It was only when they had done three circuits of the dance floor that others began to join them.

First it was Dumbledore and McGonagall, then Neville and Ginny, Luna and Francois and so on and so forth until every single student was smashed together on the dance floor. Soon enough, the slow mournful tune gave way to something more upbeat and punchy; one that reminded her of an AC/DC or Queen song.

Enthusiastic cheers and whistles sounded from the students gathered and they rushed the stage like fans at a concert. The dancing became less organised and more wild, many of the older students grinding against or holding their dates close. The few teachers who _had _been waltzing pushed themselves out of the thriving throng of students before wandering back over to the sides where they could watch without hovering over the students.

So lost in the beat of the music and the heat of bodies pushed up against her, Hermione couldn't help the face-cracking grin that had split her face. Viktor's hands gripped at her waist, running up her spine and pulling her close as the two swayed and moved to the music. Viktor's eyes gleamed in the candlelight and an uncharacteristic grin marred his features as he danced with the little witch; he too enjoying his time with her.

* * *

What had felt like a couple of songs but was really an hour or two later, Hermione emerged from the throng of bodies and made her way over to where Harry and Ron sat sulking at one of the free tables. Harry had seemingly lost his date to a Beaxubatons fellow and Padma was alternating between glaring at Ron and stuffing her face with the dessert finger foods and egg nog on the table.

"Hi" Harry greeted as Hermione plopped herself into Parvati's empty chair, a little pink from all the dancing.

"It's hot, isn't it?" Hermione fanned herself with her hand, "Viktor's just gone to get some drinks, do you want to join us?"

_"Viktor?" _Ron gave her a withering look, "Hasn't he asked you to call him _Vicky _yet?"

"What's up with you?" Hermione turned to the ginger, surprised.

"If you don't know, I'm not telling you"

Hermione spared a glance at Harry who shrugged, "Ron, what—?"

"He's from Durmstrang!" Ron spat, "He's competing against Harry! Against Hogwarts! You—you're…_fraternising with the enemy! _That's what you're doing!"

"Don't be so stupid!" Hermione's jaw dropped at the accusation, "The _enemy! _Honestly!—_Who_ was the one who was all excited when they saw him arrive? _Who _was the one who wanted his autograph? _Who's _got a model of him up in their dormitory?" Hermione stood up, hands on hips as she confronted Ron.

"I s'pose he asked you to come with him while you were both in the library?" Ron completely ignored her.

"No, actually he didn't"

"Oh?"

"He took me on a dinner date and _then _he asked me" The pink patches on her cheeks glowed a little brighter.

"Oh shag him, did you?" Ron spat, turning a ugly shade of red as his frustrations and jealousy took a hold of him. Off to the side, both Harry and Padma looked like they were pretending to mind their own business, but stayed to watch like it was a car wreck. Hermione grew quiet, her eyes narrowing on the redhead as she replied.

"_What did you just say?" _She asked, her voice cold in her fury.

"You heard me" Ron, thinking he had the last word, smirked villainously. However, with a brain full of spells and as a witch suddenly on the warpath, Hermione bent at the waist until she was eye-to-eye with Ron.

_"Ofgiefan mîn wana râd efensârgung. Tôh hê sînl¯ædan bêga ðanc, pron ðe ic êower m¯ædencild andig râd êower healsgebedda!" _She practically snarled the old spell making Padma gasped in surprise and sit up when she recognised what happened next. For a moment or two nothing seemed to happen and then all at once, the crotch of Ron's pants began to move as if something was struggling to get out.

And something was. In a burst of feathers, a little yellow canary burst through the fabric of his dress robes, leaving behind a rather large hole that made it look like Fang had chewed it to pieces. Hermione's hand swung out and snatched the little yellow bird from the air, and clasped it tightly in her fist as she stroked the head of the little bird. Ron's face contorted from the jealous frustration he had been feeling before into something of pleasure as his eyes fluttered and threatened to roll up into the back of his head.

Harry stared at his ginger friend in shock, before his wide eyes travelled to the smirking witch standing before them. Off to the side, Padma sat gleefully giggling behind her hands (whether due to the copious amounts of egg nog she'd drunk or because she knew what the spell was for). Hermione bent down to Ron's eye level once more as she transfigured a piece of the silverware into a small birdcage and dropped it (bird and all) into the depths of her pouch. "You should be _very_ glad that there are witnesses, Ronald, otherwise there's no saying what I would do to you"

Standing up to her full height once more, she turned to Padma who still sat giggling in her seat. "Padma, would _you _like to join us? A couple of us are thinking of throwing an afterparty" Hermione offered the bored witch.

"YES!" Padma all but jumped to her feet at the offer.

"And where do you plan to do _that?" _Ron spat, intent on having the last word, even if it killed him. "Surely, you're not gonna rock the ship?"

Hermione, full of barely controlled fury turned a glare to him, "Until you've developed some manners, don't talk to me" She snarled, turning sharply on her heel and dragging the other witch with her back into the heaving crowd still on the dance floor.


	23. Wicked Witches

When midnight finally rolled around, there were only so many witches and wizards lingering on the dance floor. Most of the younger students had returned to their dormitories sometime around 10pm, leaving the older ones to dance to their hearts content. By this point, many girls had shirked their sky-high heels in favour of bare feet whilst others had forgone their fancy hair-dos to simply tie up their sweaty locks.

When _The Weird Sisters _finally finished playing, their last note echoing throughout the Great Hall, everyone gave a last, loud round of applause and started to wind their way out into the entrance Hall. Many people were expressing how they wished that the Ball could have gone on longer as they farewelled their dates before returning to their accomodations.

All except a few. Hermione had pulled Padma (plus a Beauxbatons lad she had snagged) and Viktor over to where the rest of her coven, their dates and a few others stood outside on the glittering lawn. All-in-all, there seemed to be about fourteen-odd students, ranging from Beauxbatons, Hogwarts and Durmstrang."Hello witches" Lila greeted the gathered students with her arm looped through her date's arm, "Mia, we ready?"

"Of course" Hermione smiled conspiratorially.

"Well, c'me on then, what are we waiting for?" Charlotte grinned, leading the pack down to the Forbidden Forest where the afterparty had been set up.

###

It didn't take long for the coven to traverse the Forest even in the darkness. Witches pulled their dates along by the hand, making sure that they didn't fall over in the night and soon enough, the group found themselves standing in front of the gnarled roots of an upturned Nemeton tree deep within the Forest.

"You know what they call this place, don't you?" Hermione questioned silkily as the group came to a stop in front of the large roots. "The Devil's doorway. They say the roots in the Forest run so deep, they'll take you all the way down to Hell"

"Ahem" Coughed Lila's date, "I don't know about this, man. This is starting to feel really freaky to me"

"Now boys, don't go getting scared on us!" Sophie teased.

"I just don't wanna…break my neck tripping in the dark" Tried another.

"Are you a wizard or not?" Emilia taunted as the girls began to melt into the shadows of the large tree, pulling some of the other (non-coven) witches with them, until only Charlotte remained beside Hermione.

"Well?" Hermione tilted her head in question. Laughter echoed up from behind her, like something out of a horror film.

"Maybe they _are _scared" Charlotte whispered, brushing aside a loose curl from Hermione's face. Next her hand ran down Hermione's bare arm, just a feather-light touch. Hermione met Viktor's hungry eyes as she smirked. "Maybe they're just scared little boys" Laughter continued to flow from the dark roots, even as multiple hands came out of the dark and wrapped themselves around the two witches and gently pulled them in.

It took a moment or two before the boys followed after them, some of them muttering a couple of curses as they tripped over themselves. Or at least until the witches took pity on them and several _Lumos' _burst to life. The girls easily moved through the dark tunnels as if they were dryads running through the woods, leaving the wizards to stumble behind them. Their joyous laughter seemed almost devilish and wicked as they descended, and their eyes gleaming bright in the dark; only illuminated by the floating balls of _Lumos._

The cavern beneath the Nemeton was much larger than it appeared to be, possibly about the size of a classroom with high vaulting ceilings that imitated the Great Hall. Roots dangled above their heads and interwove themselves into the walls of the cavern like steel structures holding up a house. The earthen room had been decorated rather similarly to the coven's clearing with its floating lanterns/tables, bottles of booze lined up on earthen shelves and a transfigured couch or two hidden amongst fairy-lit roots.

Upon reaching the space beneath the Nemeton which had been cleared out and decorated for the afterparty, the students wasted no time in restarting the party. Muggle and Wizarding booze flowed like water as pounding music bounced against the hastily applied wards around the tree. Music blared out from the enchanted gramophone in the corner playing tunes that fitted easily into the environment which had been created by the otherworldly florals and magical enchantments around the place. Occasionally, a Wizarding or Muggle song would play, but the students were so plastered by this point that it didn't seem to matter.

The beat of the current song pounded in Hermione's ears and followed her heartbeat as she glued herself to Viktor; one hand occupied by her goblet of miscellaneous booze, the other trailing up and down the Bulgarian's arm, her nails occasionally scratching the skin as they danced. His arms were free of any goblet but his breath stank of alcohol as he pulled her closer and closer to him, the atmosphere around them heightening their desires and drowning out all logic.

Hermione lost herself to the pounding of the music, the touch of Viktor's hands on her skin, to the kisses on her neck, to the sweet alcohol on her tongue, to the magic in the air and arousal in her loins. For once, she tossed aside logic and lost herself in the moment, feeling herself and the wizard her cradled her close and forgot about those around her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that Emilia had already mounted her wizard and was bobbing up and down on his cock as he tilted his head back in pleasure. A little ways over, Padma had been pushed up against the wall of the cavern, her dress robes bunched around her waist as her date kissed her passionately. It only served to push Hermione further.

"Viktor…" She murmured dizzily tucking her head beneath his chin as she gripped tight to him for leverage. Hermione dropped her goblet in favour of encircling both hands around the Bulgarian's muscular upper arms. Mindlessly she noted that the room seemed to spin and tilt a little but it didn't worry her. In fact, it was nice, like she was on the precept of consciousness with all of her usual logic locked far away. _It's nice, letting go, I should do it more often, really._

At some point the pair had moved further back up the tunnels until the rest of the party had been left behind. She half-remembered Viktor suggesting they find somewhere a little more private as the two emerged back out onto the main forest floor. It wasn't until she was thrust up against a fallen tree, that Hermione realised where they were. The sharp jolt against the rough bark awakened her just enough to for her to recognise that they had somehow managed to find themselves near the outskirts of the Forest where it met the Lake.

"палавница…" Viktor murmured against her neck. Moving back up to her face, he pressed his lips against hers in a passionate kiss. Hermione clutched him by the leather straps that ran across his chest like a harness. Angling her head slightly, Hermione pushed back against the kiss, meeting him in the passion.

Pulling back for breath, Hermione met the Bulgarian's hungry eyes as they danced in the moonlight that lazily drifted down through the canopy and danced upon the two in the Forest. A gentle hand caressed Viktor's face as they drifted forward once more. Viktor responded in full , and as soon as their lips touched once more, it felt like switch had been flipped.

His strong arms wrapped firmly around her waist whilst the other crawled up her skin to card itself through her now loose locks. His tongue ran the seam of her lips before plunging inside to wrestle with her own, until she gave in and let him have control.

His hands felt like fire on her skin. The fingers that he had on her waist were tightening so intensely that she expected them to leave delicious little marks behind. He devoured her like a starving man, and she couldn't help but respond just as roughly. There _was_ a reason he called her "little minx"

Pushing her up against the fallen tree, he gripped tight to one of her legs and tugged it up to sling around his waist. The skirt of her dress bunched itself at the waist, allowing him access to her bare supple bare thighs and the lacy knickers she wore. She tightened her leg around him and sighed as her core rolled against his.

Viktor broke the kiss to trail his talented tongue and lips down her neck. He was breathing heavily by this point—they both were—and she could feel his hot breath blowing against her sensitive skin. Goosebumps trailed after his kisses, leaving behind a lovely little trail behind him. Her body shook with a shiver as he dragged his kisses back up towards her ear where it was hidden behind loose curls. His teeth tugged lightly at her ear lobe, her earrings twinkling as he did so.

"My палавница…" Viktor breathed. _"Vant you…" _Hermione moaned at his words and ground herself against his hardening bulge that was forming in his pants. Viktor sneered as he felt her body respond to his. "Feel dat, палавница?" He pushed his hard-on right onto her clothed heat.

"Viktor…" Hermione whined his name into his shoulder and he panted as he heard his own name fall from her delicate mouth. It had never sounded so heavenly before. Her fingers gripped against his broad shoulders, digging themselves into the layers of thick material as she tried to glue herself to him. Her core against his, wet against hard.

"Can you feel how hard you make me, палавница?" Viktor ground his caged cock upwards against her nearly translucent underwear. "I can feel your body moving against mine You want me too, don't you?"

Hermione panted at this and nodded her head enthusiastically. Her once smooth hair had returned to its usual frizzy state by this point, only kept back by the lopsided silver headband she wore. Sparks of accidental magic crackled within the tight curls and she revelled in the awesome pleasure of it.

Heat rolled off of each other as she and Viktor shared each other's bodies, rolling in waves of roiling heat, matched only by her own pulsing pussy, she practically purred at the feeling of it as she felt her teeth shift to the fangs of her animagus, felt her pupils blow wide, felt her sensed grew tenfold.

"Yes, I want you, Viktor…please…fuck, please don't stop" She moaned, grinding against his heat as he thrust up against her. He was breathing fiercely as he purred into her ear.

"I could take you right here, again dis tree. You'd like that, vouldn't you, палавница? It would be _so _easy, you know. All I'd have to do is push aside your panties, and I bet you'd already be _vet _and ready for me. Fuck, палавница…are you vet right now? I bet you're dripping, aren't you? I'd fuck you so hard. Fuck…have you'd ride me like a broom…!"

Viktor moaned as the head of his restrained cock thrusted right up against her lacy knickers, already soaked from her arousal and practically dripping in her wetness. His eyes clenched shut in pleasure, and all he heard was Hermione's sounds of enjoyment that she made as he rubbed his body up against hers. She was a moaning mess against him, and she felt more than heard the groan that fell from his lips at the control he had over her pliant body.

She nipped softly at the juncture between his neck and shoulder like a vampire searching for blood, her fangs danced along the skin as they barely dug into the flesh bared to her. Viktor couldn't take it much longer. He clearly wanted to strip her of the cumbersome dress and shag her against the tree, but some part of him was holding back, even drunk as he was.

He grasped tightly to Hermione's arse in both hands and squeeze roughly making her buck against him. He had to press her harder against the rough bark of the tree in order to make sure she wouldn't collapse onto the floor in her pleasure-induced daze. Eyelids fluttered as she encircled her arms around his neck and hung on.

Pleasure ran all throughout your body; from her head to her toes, brain to loins, her body radiated with it. Soon enough wonderful pressure began to build in her lower regions, and she increased her humping, intent on finishing even if it killed her. Beneath her, Hermione could feel Viktor's cock twitching in its confines.

Just before they lost it all, the two raised their eyes to meet each other fixated stare, unable to turn away. Hermione's cheeks had become flushed with red, almost matching the shade of her dress, and her lips were swollen from the passionate snogging. Her pupils had blown almost impossibly wide and her teeth elongated into fangs. Like a creature of the forest, she stared at him with unrestrained lustful hunger.

"Do you want me, палавница?" Viktor murmured, unable to move his eyes away from the sight in his arms. Her eyes widened at the question; even in her booze-muddled brain she seemed to register severity of the question. Suddenly her eyes squeezed shut as images of gorgeous fantasies came to mind.

_"Yes! _Yes…I…please…fuck me!" Hermione moaned wantonly, "Please! I'm so close…!"

Viktor couldn't take it any longer. The pair locked eyes again as his hips stuttered upwards and he thrust hard one last time before her mouth opened even wider , and she bit down hard onto his shoulder. He groaned deeply into her ear as she felt his cock pulse beneath her.

Tipping her over the edge, Hermione saw stars as she finally let go. Cum ran down her thighs and soaked through her knickers, landing on the crotch of Viktor's pants. Once the floodgates opened, all hell broke loose. Any restraint she once hold, disappeared as her thighs became coated in her cum, soon followed by the piss sloshing around in her bladder. She moaned long and loud as she soaked not only her underwear, but Viktor's well. Rivulets of piss stained his dark pants and seeped down onto his cock as well.

When the stream finally came to an orgasmic end, Hermione continued to bounce up and down in Viktor's grip as her mind was fogged over with overwhelming pleasure. She panted harshly in his ear as a second spurt of cum squirted down her thighs and mixed into the mess between them.

For a moment the two lay there in their mess, Hermione in Viktor's arms as they tried to regain their breaths. Pulling back from where her head had lain on his shoulder as she panted; she met his questioning gaze and slipped from his grip. Grinning like a loon, Hermione pawed at the button of his soaked pants, intent on more mischievous debauchery.


	24. Detective Granger

The castle was silent when Hermione returned on Boxing Day morning with head pounding and body aching. Admittedly, she _had _passed by a couple of witches taking part in the early morning walk of shame, but they either smirked at each other or waved the other away, not wanting to start anything in their hungover state. Having—thankfully—woken up in the hospital wing, she could only assume that she'd passed out there at some point last night…that or Pomfrey had made sure to secure her there before she could hurt herself further in her drunken state. Viktor had been nowhere to be seen, so she could only assume that he had returned to his ship.

It was still early when she had shuffled out of the hospital wing and found herself tucked away in one of the little alcoves that decorated the hallway. Hidden from prying eyes, she fished out a pair of red and gold snitch-patterned boxer shorts (nicked from Ron's drawers) that hung loosely on her hips and a AC/DC band tee that fell off one of her shoulders. Her loose locks (now retaining their usual frizz) were pulled back into a simple ponytail that looked more like a pompom at the back of her head.

After a fair amount of cursing, her wand and its holster were shifted from her thigh to her forearm, and a pair of mismatched woollen socks adorned her feet in black, white & orange that sagged around her ankles were exchanged for the burgundy dress and jewellery. Stuffing her shoes, dress and jewellery into her pouch, she then proceeded to sling said bag over her shoulder and stand from her crouch. Her stomach roiled as she stood, hand snapping out to brace herself against the stone wall as she tried to regain her bearings without losing last night's dinner.

_Damn. It's upstairs! _Hermione silently moaned. The Hangover potion wasn't one that she usually needed, for she hardly ever drank so much which meant that what bottles she _did _have were securely locked away in the bathroom up in her dorm room. _Unless…I finished the last one_. Stumbling over her own feet, Hermione clutched onto her pounding head as she padded through the castle's twisting corridors until she reached the door she was searching for. Squinting her eyes against the impossibly bright morning sun, Hermione reached out to tickle the pear of the fruit bowl portrait covering the kitchen door. _Did I finish the last one? Did I even brew anymore?…I s'pose there's always the Muggle cures…Maiden's tits! My head!_

Shuffling down the steps Hermione emerged onto the cold stone floor and was met by the few House-elves still bustling about the kitchens. "Missy! Missy! It's so good to see you again, Missy!" Squeaked one of the smaller elves; her high-pitched voice reaching peaks that made the witch wince and clutch her pounding head.

"So _loud!" _Hermione complained as she felt a petite hand wrap itself around hers and lead her over to one of the tables in front of the roaring hearth.

"Tiny is sorry, Missy! Tiny is excited to have Missy! And Missy has Tiny! And Kay!" The little elf bounced around the kitchen like a child hyped up on sugar. Tiny—as is turned out—was a, well, tiny, House-elf who had dressed herself, not in a sheet or pillowcase like many of the House-elves had, but in a toddler's duck-printed onesie, complete with a button-up butt-flap on the back and Hogwarts emblem on the front.

"It's fine" Hermione groaned, head in hands. At least until the contents of the sentence seemed to register; her head shooting up and turning to the little House-elf. "Sorry—" Hermione winced at the sudden movement, "—Can you say that again?"

"Tiny is excited?" Tiny tilted her head in question, large ears flopping like a dog's.

"No, no, the bit after, about me…?"

"Oh! Missy has Tiny! And Tiny has Missy! And Kay!" Tiny clapped her hands excitedly as she jumped up and down. "Tiny and Kay is bound to Missy! Great witch is Missy!"

"A-and—and…who is Kay?"

"Kay is here, Missy!" Tiny pointed to a soot-covered House-elf that was tending to the hearth and looked up at the mention of his name. _He looks like my grandfather, _she mused as her gaze roved over the gnarled-looking elf who had turned back to the task at hand. Kay's appearance reminded her of her grandfather when he talked about his times in the Muggle wars; that haunted look he'd get when he'd get lost in his memories and how he appeared to perpetually grumpy. Long, large wrinkles were engraved into his skin and seemed to hang off of his frame like a bloodhound's. Evidently, the mossy-coloured sheet he wore almost seemed to blend in with his skin tone.

"Uh, since—since when? I-I don't remember…" Hermione scrunched her brows in puzzlement.

"Last night, Missy! Missy comes to kitchens with red wizard! And Missy binds herself to us! Tiny is sooo happy!"

"Red wizard?" She muttered to herself, "Viktor? Or Ron? What _happened _last night?"

"See, Missy, see!" Tiny tapped Hermione's left wrist where two small runes had been engraved into her own skin. "Tiny has one too! Tiny is Missy's elf now!" She then shoved her own petite wrist into the witch's face where a matching rune could be seen marring the skin.

"Huh, so there is…" Hermione gently rubbed her thumb over the imprint on the elf's wrist in contemplation. At least until a spark of pain lanced through her head, making her drop the elf's wrist in favour of cradling her own head. "Is Missy okay? Can Tiny do something?" Tiny bent at an odd angle so that her eyes were still lower than Hermione's, subconsciously submitting to the witch as she did so.

"Uh…can I have some green tea?" Hermione winced, "And some ginger and honeycomb, thanks"

"Oh yes, Missy! Tiny can do that! Tiny will do that! Wait here, Missy!" Tiny zoomed off to the other end of the kitchen to prepare the requested items.

Hermione all but collapsed onto the tabletop, her head landing on her arms as she closed her eyes against the seemingly harsh light of the kitchens and tried to drown out the banging of knives and kettles as Tiny went about her chores. Exhaustion pulled at her lids and she was about to give in, if only to stave off the feeling of sickness rolling around in her body when Tiny returned with the tea tray.

"All done, Missy! Tiny hopes yous like it!" Tiny chirped before she was herded back into the kitchen by one of the older House-elves who had been eyeing her since she'd walked in. Slowly raising her head from her arms, Hermione set about concocting the hangover cure courtesy of her mother's expertise. Green tea (for the headache and stomach) which was poured into the floral printed tea cup; next she plopped a couple of slices of crystallised ginger (for the nausea) into the cup where it fizzled and bubbled all the way to the bottom.

Not waiting for the tea to cool, she blew on her cup before gulping down as much of the liquid as she could stomach. When she came up for air, she jostled the cup a little when she sat it back on the saucer, making some slosh over the side and onto her hand. "Ouch!" Hermione hissed pulling her hand away and shaking off the hot tea.

It was only when she brought her hand back to her eye line that she realised why the tea stung more than it should have. All along the knuckles of her right hand had been wrapped in slightly dirty bandages. The bandages themselves appeared to be relatively new and the dirt only just sitting atop the gauze, which meant—since she didn't have it yesterday evening—that something happened during the night.

Slowly unravelling the tightly bound bandages, Hermione found that her knuckles had been split open and were crusted over in dark crusty blood. The split wasn't deep by any means, but it did sting like a bitch and would likely take more than a day or two to heal. _Did I take this to Ma'am P? Then why is it not healed yet? _Hermione mused as she used one hand to sip from her tea and studied the other.

For the life of her, she couldn't remember what happened the night before, save for a few hazy moments. Flashes of a little yellow canary, dancing wildly, the hospital wing…for some reason and raucous laughter came to mind.

Taking a rather large unladylike bite out of the wedge of honeycomb on her plate, Hermione tried her best to piece together what happened the night before. She remembered being huffy at Ron (which wasn't unusual), then storming off with Padma and Viktor to dance…they went to an afterparty in the Forest. There had been _a lot _of booze, she'd chatted with her friends, kissed Viktor, and then…

Hermione suddenly jolted upright, her hands slapping against the wooden tabletop either side of the tea tray when a certain memory popped into mind. One that certainly explained why more than just her head and stomach ached. "Oh my Gods…" Hermione breathed, one hand slapping over her mouth in shock as she recalled what happened. "I-I fucked him…Dad's gonna have a cow…" She giggled a little hysterically, running both hands over her face before she shoved more honeycomb into her mouth. However, when she tried to pry further into her memories, all that came up was fuzzy haze and blackness. _What a night it must've been…_

**_CRE~AK! _**

Hermione was bought out of her thoughts with the sound of the kitchen door opening and shutting as someone descended the steps. "Ah, Miss Granger, there you are" McGonagall greeted, coming to sit herself across from the young Gryffindor. Apparently it was so early that even the Transfiguration professor had yet to change out of her nightgown.

"Profesher?" Hermione garbled around the piece of honeycomb in her mouth as she wiped a string of honey dripping from her chin and ignored the disgruntled look displayed on her professor's face. "Ish shomeshing sha matter?"

"I was hoping you could tell me why Mr Weasley was taken to the Hospital wing last night" She replied helping herself to the slowly cooling kettle.

"Ron's hurt?"

"You know which Weasley I'm speaking of?"

"Well, I mean, it's us. There hasn't been a single year where one of us _hasn't _been in the Hospital wing; I mean, usually its Harry or Ron—Did something happen? Was it the twins? Did they prank him again?"

"No, Miss Granger, he says it was _you"_

_"Me? _But what did—" She followed McGonagall's pointed stare towards her bruised knuckles. _"Oh…_how bad was it?"

"A broken nose, nothing that couldn't be fixed. However, since Madam Pomfrey states that it was _you _and not him who told her what happened, she refused at first, to heal it magically. Apparently it took a lot of convincing on your part"

"What? I—I was there?" Hermione furrowed her brows in confusion, mumbling under breath "Since when?"

"Miss Granger" McGonagall sipped daintily at her tea, "Can you tell me what might have led up to this incident?"

"Uh, I dunno, I mean, maybe…" Hermione trailed off as she set her tea cup down once more, "Ron was really upset with me about the Ball—especially when he saw who I was with. I think he had assumed that he would go with me if no one else would take him"

"I see" McGonagall's eyes narrowed at the cup in her hands, "Anything else?"

"Uh…" Hermione refused to meet her professor's eyes as something came to mind.

"Miss Granger?"

"Uh, he, uh…I—I—he…"

"You're not in trouble Miss Granger, I'd just like to know what happened"

"Um…Ron, he, uh, he asked if—if I, uh…_shagged _Viktor beforehand to secure him as my date" Hermione flushed scarlet, unable to look anyone in the eye as she talked, "He, uh, accused me of being a whore, so…I hexed him"

"And…what hex did you use?"

"Um…Mrs Weasley taught it to me over summer, she said I needed to know these sort of things to secure a good husband. She, uh, said it was a little trick that some housewives would use on…wayward husbands"

"…I see" McGonagall straightened in her seat and continued to sip at her tea, her eyes narrowed in thought.

"Is that it?" Having finished her own cup, Hermione was wanting to leave—she was in desperate need of a shower…and a Hangover Potion.

"Yes, that'll be all"

It wasn't until she at the top of the kitchen stairs that McGonagall called out again, catching the young witch's attention just as the portrait door swung open. "Miss Granger?" McGonagall called.

"Ma'am?" Hermione turned to glance down at her Transfiguration professor.

"Well done" Hermione merely grinned in response, her lips softening as she stepped through the doorway and Tiny's high-pitched squeak echoed out after her.

"BYE MISSY!"

* * *

Upon arriving back at the unusually silent Gryffindor Tower, Hermione slowly made her way up to the seventh-year girls' dorm room where she figured Victoria would be (it was her from room after all). Shuffling over to the mouse's bed, Hermione oh-so-gently shoved the wizard sharing the bed onto the floor and climbed into the warm spot he had just vacated. "Oompf!" Cried the tired wizard when he awoke to the feeling of falling (admittedly not very far) out of the bed and landing on the cold wooden floor. His sudden eviction from the bed and wake-up call also served to wake some of the others hidden beneath layers of blankets; but not for long. "What the 'ell was that for?" He complained sitting upright and staring at the witch who had just replaced him.

Hermione, who had snuggled in under the many layers of blankets merely smiled tiredly at the wizard—_Fred, _her hungover mind supplied_—_before she closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep. _"Hey!" _Fred complained, this time catching Victoria's bleary attention.

"Wha—Mi~a?" Victoria yawned she was met with a head of brown instead of red as she had expected; a quick glance down at the floor revealed where a bed-headed Fred had gone. "He~ey! There's our superstar! When d'ya get back?"

"Just now" Hermione mumbled, shoving her head into the pillow. Rolling over to face the younger witch, Victoria watched as Hermione's back rose and fell in gentle movements as the younger witch tried to go back to sleep. Off to the side, Fred (bedhead and all) had removed himself from the wooden floor and curled up at the witches' feet like a cat.

"Where were you? We lost you after you had to see the karaoke session last night"

"Yeah—" Hermione rolled her head over to face Victoria, "—I, uh, ended up in the Forest and, uh, not—not alone"

"What!" Fred shot up like he had been electrocuted; his thoughts catapulting straight towards the dark and dreary.

"Woohoo!" Victoria cheered, her mind, on the other hand, diving towards something a little more kosher.

"Ah!" Hermione winced at the loud noise, "No woohooing! No woohooing!"

"Well…who was it? Was it Krum…Or someone else?" Victoria pursued.

"Nah, it was Viktor…I think…Who else would it be?"

"You _think?" _Fred interjected, his parlour paling as he turned all overprotective brother on the young witch, "You _think? _Mia! You're only fourteen for Merlin's sake!"

"Well, first of all—" Hermione rolled over to stare at the wizard sitting on her feet, "—I'm _sixteen—"_

"—Since _when?"_

_"_Since always" Hermione grumbled, "And anyway, why is it any of _your _business who I fuck?"

"So wait—" This time it was Victoria who interjected, "Did you two really…?"

"Uh huh" Hermione nodded, falling back onto the pillows with a sigh and slinging one of her arms over her eyes to block out the radiating morning sun from burning her eyes.

"…Have you taken the potion yet?"

"Hangover? No…Pregnancy? No"

"Well, don't worry. I think we've got some in the bathroom, c'me on" Victoria pulled Hermione out of bed and towards the bathroom; stepping around the other occupants of the room who had been sprawled about like pick-up-sticks. A couple members from the afterparty were littered amongst the Gryffindors, fast asleep and enjoying their sleep before they woke to hangovers.

Fred, who had followed after like a lost puppy, slumped against the wall of the end toilet stall as Hermione seated her bleary-eyed self on one of the toilets. Victoria in turn, busied herself with searching through the large chestnut medicine cabinet off to the side where a variety of potions and Muggle devices lay. From first-aid kits to pregnancy tests, to Pepper-ups and Calming draughts, to condoms and birth control, the cabinet held them all (most of the bathrooms did, though they were hardly used).

"Here ya go" She came back with a goblet in hand; the viscous liquid inside sloshing around and barely spilling over the rim. "It'll make ya have to pee like a kelpie, just so ya know"

"Thanks" Hermione replied, tossing back the goblet and situating herself on the toilet properly as Victoria sat against the wall facing her."What the hell happened last night?"

"You really don't remember, _Wicked Witch?" _Victoria teased.

"I…remember bits and pieces…and a couple of things that I've put together" Hermione replied as the potion suddenly hit her and she began to pee.

"Well, what _do _you remember?"

"I remember…Ron being pissy, hexing him, going into the Forest…uh, we did shots, there was kissing…Viktor and I, y'know…and that's it"

"Okay, and what did you put together? Did you talk to someone this morning?"

"Yeah, I, uh, bumped into McGonagall in the Kitchens…apparently, I, uh, broke Ron's nose last night"

"You _what?" _Fred laughed, "With what? What d'ya use? Is that why—"

"—I didn't actually use a hex or a curse, or anything. I think I may have punched him" Hermione examined her rebandaged hand once more. "That's not all"

"What else? What did ya do?" Hermione could almost hear the smile in Fred's voice.

"Apparently I bound myself to two House-elves"

"Ha! Do you even know how to do that?"

"Nope…or at least, I don't think so…"

"So who'd ya get? Can't be Dobby, surely, was it Winky?"

"Winky? No, no, they're called Tiny and Kay"

"Tiny and Kay? The titchy elf in a onesie and the grumpy elf who rolls around in soot?"

"Yep, that's them…still don't know how I did it…Do you know what happened?"

"With…the elves?" Victoria puzzled.

"No…well, yes, but…what_ do_ you remember?"

"Well…"

* * *

**_Yule Afterparty, Forbidden Forest 1995_**

_"…And how'd you guys like the shots?" Milo Dorian (a half-blood from Hufflepuff) questioned, coming over to retrieve the floating tray of empty shot glasses from between the group of witches and wizards._

_"I drank all five, bitch!" Hermione replied, replacing her latest shot glass with a goblet filled with punch._

_"Ha ha! I love drunk Mia!" Charlotte laughed, as the surrounding witches and wizards shared looks of surprise, shock and amusement._

_"Charlotte thinks Viktor's a vampire" Hermione drunkenly informed the wizard as she placed one of the empty cups on the tray._

_"Ha ha!" Charlotte laughed before shooting Hermione a glare that went unnoticed by the young witch._

_"Alright, if she pukes, one of you guys cleans it up" Milo declared as he disappeared to concoct more outrageous drinks for the partygoers._

_"No dibs!" Sophie cried, shoving her thumb onto her forehead. Most of the others copying her just in time and leaving Lila out to dry._

_"No di—aw, dammit!" Lila cursed, not being quick enough._

_"How quickly you all forget, I haven't puked since primary. I'm vomit-free since primary. Vomit-free since primary, that's funny, I'm funny…" Hermione laughed to herself as she plunged her arm into the push at her hip and pulled out a red piece of paper and a quill._

_"Whoa! What are you doing?" Victoria asked as Hermione began to write out her Howler._

_"Howling Ron" Hermione replied carefree._

_"No! Bad idea witch!" _

_"No, no, it's a great idea" Charlotte interrupted, "That's the whole point of getting drunk—you do things that you'd never do in a million years if you were sober!"_

_"Says every boy you've ever slept with!" Victoria teased._

_"Oh no you didn't!" Charlotte teasingly snapped her fingers in a z-shaped pattern._

_"Oh yes I did!" Victoria mirrored the action, before the two witches fell into giggles._

_There was pause in the conversation in which Hermione used to scribe her Howler (the first of many that evening). Unlike regular letters, Howlers didn't necessarily need to be handwritten nor delivered by an owl, you just simply said what you want to say—like a medieval talk-to-text message or a Quick Quotes Quill—and the letter would write it down for you. This included the sending information on the envelope._

_With the red page seated before her, Hermione began to speak. "Hello Ronald, it's Hermione. I don't say this enough, but you're great friend and a great wizard. You should be in the Daily Prophet—you should be one of the prophets! Oh! And if you ever try to backtalk me again, I'll castrate you with a teaspoon! A teaspoo~oon! Ha~ha! That's funny! I'm funny! Teaspo~oon! Teaspo~oon!"_

_"Okay, that's enough" Victoria yanked the Howler and Quick-Quotes Quill away from Hermione, but wasn't able to stop the little red letter from folding itself up and zipping off to find its recipient. "Oh that's gonna bite you in the ass later"_

_"Wow, right, that's why we don't do shots" Charlotte nodded sagely as she drank from her own fruity-flavoured goblet._

_"Friends, don't let friends drink and howl" Victoria gestured with the feathered quill._

_ "I need that quill back" Hermione demanded._

_"You'll get this quill back at the end of class"_

_"Ding! Class dismissed!" Fred grinned, snatching the quill from his date and handing it to the younger witch, "Here you go, kid, you write whoever you want!"_

_"Thank you, kind sir! At least someone appreciates the fact that I am doing and not thinking!" Hermione rose to her feet, spinning once as if she was trying to figure out where she was, "And now, I don't think I won't not go to the bathroom!" She disappeared into the crowd of people, leaving her friends and date behind._

_"Was that necessary? She's not making smart decisions" Lila turned to the redhead._

_"Exactly! It's like what's she gonna do next? I don't know, but I wanna find out!" Fred cheered._

_The answer came sooner than expected. The intro to Belinda Carlisle's '__Heaven is a Place on Earth'__ blared from the gramophone in the corner, cutting out whatever bohemian-indy witchy song had been playing. A few grumbles sounded from the crowd, but most were either too drunk to care. "Belinda Carlisle? Oh Otto" Victoria sighed as the group twisted to watch what Hermione would do next._

_Having been waylaid by the gramophone in the corner, the witch had decided to play one of the Muggle tunes that she and her mother liked to sing and dance around the kitchen to when they thought no one was looking. Of course, now everyone was looking but Hermione was too wasted to care. With the music blaring behind her, Hermione sang into the new Howler now hovering next to her as she sang along to the song, uncaring if she sounded tone-deaf or not._

_Ooh baby! Do you know what that's worth?_

_Ooh heaven is a place on earth!_

_They say in heaven, love comes first!_

_We'll make heaven our place on earth!_

_Ooh heaven is a place on earth!_

_"I LOVE EVERYONE AT THIS PARTY!" Hermione declared, hands in the air and grinning like the cheshire cat._

_"And we love you, drunk Mia" Charlotte toasted to the singing witch, who danced over to the group and pulled Viktor into a carefree dance._

* * *

"Well, that explains the looks Ron was giving me this morning" Hermione sighed as she continued to pee. "Circe! How long am I going to have to pee?!"

"I did tell ya you'd have to pee like a kelpie" Victoria shrugged.

"Yeah, yeah"

"What did you mean about Ron, this morning?" Fred piped up.

"Oh, I passed him in the common room; he was in front of the fire place, just sitting there with his hands down his pants—looked like I'd caught him with his hand in the cookie jar or something…" Hermione shook her head, ridding herself of the image.

"Wait! You caught him jerking off in the common room?" Fred laughed.

"He was giving it a damn good go" Hermione replied, before turning to Victoria, "Uh, how many Howlers did I write in the end?"

"A fair few as far as I can remember. After the unexpected karaoke session, we took you back to the castle" Victoria smiled.

"But I didn't stay in the castle, did I?"

"Not if what you remember is true" Victoria agreed, "You should ask the others, see if they remember anything"

"How about Charlie? Do you know where she is?" Hermione asked.

"Charlie?" Victoria puzzled. Off to the side, the sound of someone shifting around in the bathtub caught their attention.

"Charlie?" Hermione peeked around the end of her stall and watched as Victoria rose to peer inside the deep bathtub sitting across the room.

"Hullo" Charlotte tiredly greeted as Victoria peered down at her.

"Why are you sleeping in our tub?" Victoria asked.

"Oh! The porcelain keeps the dress from wrinkling"

"How'd you get in her anyway? We put Mia to bed 'round 2am"

"Oh you put Mia to bed alright!"

* * *

_"You guys take care of—hic— me" Hermione sighed dreamily as Victoria tucked the younger witch into her bed while Fred waited at the door, watching the interaction much like a parent would for their young child. "You guys are the best! I love you guys so—hic—so—hic— much!"_

_"G'night Mia" Victoria joined Fred at the door. "Love ya too"_

_However this didn't last for long, not half an hour later, Hermione had returned to the afterparty in the Forest, only this time a couple of people had left. "I'm back, witches!" She sang, drunkenly spinning into the cavern. How she was able to navigate the twisting tunnels while drunk, she'd never know, but she was here and that's all that mattered._

_"He~ey! She rallies!" Charlotte cheered, high-fiving Hermione "And the night begins now! Alright, game faces on! Milo! Two more! All right! What do we think of this one?" She pointed out a wizard solemnly leaning against the wall with a goblet in his hand as he watched the party with disinterested eyes._

_"I think—" Hermione swayed._

_"ARRRNN! Trick question! No thinking!"_

_"Right!"_

_"You know what time it is? It's do-o'clock! Let's ride!" Charlotte sashayed over to the lone wizard, assuming that Hermione would follow. She did not. Instead, she was off in a corner writing yet another Howler._

_"You're Howling Weasley" Charlotte stated angrily as she stomped back over to the witch._

_"I'm Howling Ron" Hermione agreed amicably._

_"Otto! As your senior and spiritual guide, I forbid you from Howling him!"_

_"Oh yeah? What'cha gonna do?"_

_"If you finish that Howler, I'll set you on fire" Charlotte pulled out her wand and waved it menacingly._

_"Heh! You're bluffing!" Hermione scoffed, going back to the Howler, "Heeeeey, Ron! You wanna—"_

_"Incendio!" Charlotte pushed her wand tip against the skirt of Hermione's dress, watching as the fire licked up the material like wildfire._

_"AAAH! OWW!" Hermione yowled, not actually hurt by the flames but still scared that Charlotte went through with her threat._

* * *

"You set me on fire" Hermione deadpanned, looking ever so elegant on her porcelain throne.

"Real satin wouldn't have gone up so fast. You got robbed that dress was a blend" Charlotte defended as she came to join Victoria in watching her pee.

"You set me _on fire"_

"What? It's not like you haven't done that before"

"That was different" Hermione huffed, crossing her arms.

_"Oh_ _really?_ How so?"

"Are you done yet?" Victoria asked Hermione, cutting through her grumbling response to the earlier question.

"Uh…I think so?" She replied, the stream of piss sounding like it was starting to taper off. "How do I even know if I'm okay? Is it like a Muggle pregnancy test?"

"Uh, I dunno about the Muggle ones…but if you're pee is black then you're pregnant and if it's clear, then you're not"

"Oh, okay, so kinda like the Muggle ones"

"What do you do with the Muggle ones?"

"It's kinda the same—you pee on a stick and wait for the results. One line means you're not pregnant and two lines means you are"

"I guess"

"Hey, I think I'm done" Hermione finally unglued herself from the toilet seat and twisted to see what colour her urine had changed into.

"Well, what colour is it?" Victoria asked, ignoring Fred's snores.

"Uh, it's clear"

"Oh good! That's good!"

"Yeah" Hermione agreed flushing the loo and joined the others on the floor of the bathroom after washing her hands, "Hey wait! Was that it? Was that all you remembered from last night?" Hermione asked the Hufflepuff.

"Yeah; after I dunked you in the Lake, I brought you back here"

"I better not have gotten burns!" Hermione warned as she inspected her arms for any lingering injuries. None were found, but someone had written a message along the inside of her forearm:

_HI, I'M HERMIONE GRANGER. IF LOST PLEASE FETCH_

_POPPY POMFREY OR MINERVA MCGONAGALL._

"I guess the next person to ask would be Pomfrey or McGonagall?" Charlotte suggested, twisting her neck to read the message.

"But I already talked to McGonagall and she didn't say anything except for punching Ron" Hermione replied. "Whose handwriting is this, anyway?"

"I think…it's Dorian's" Victoria peered at the outstretched arm.

"Milo?" Charlotte puzzled, "That's gotta be it, surely! He's the only one who dots his I's with stars"

"Well, do you know where he is?" Hermione asked.

"Uh, yeah, he'll be in the common room"

"Ours or yours?"

"Mine"

"Cool" Hermione nodded, wincing at her still achy head, "So about that Hangover potion?"

* * *

A few moments later, Charlotte, Hermione and Victoria were clustered beneath one of the castle's large coloured windows as they listened to the tale that Milo spun. Having left Fred to sleep the rest of last night off in the girls' seventh-year bathroom, the Gryffindors only had to wait so long before both Hufflepuffs remerged from their common room; one of whom was nursing a large mug of coffee.

"So what d'ya wanna know?" Milo drawled, nursing his black coffee.

"Do you know what happened last night? What _I _did last night?" Hermione asked.

"Oh yeah" Milo grinned wickedly and then he filled them in.

* * *

_"Charlie, you've always taken care of me. You are a lady and a scholar!" Hermione declared as Charlotte tucked her in to bed for the second time that night. "Go into my stable and take my finest unicorn! He's yours! His name is Dickie-bird!"_

_"Sleep it off, Otto" Charlotte softly laughed as she quietly exited the fourth-year dorm room and made her way up the seventh-year dorm room where she snuggled down into the bathtub like it was a king-sized mattress._

_No sooner had Charlotte put a Lake-soaked Hermione to bed, did she reappear in the cavern beneath the Nemeton. This time, however, only a few sixth and seventh years were dotted about the place, many of whom had already paired off and glued themselves together. Milo still remained stationed at the make-shift bar watching everything play out with a devilish grin. _

_"I'm back, witches!" Hermione sang, her dress rumpled and hair starting to refrizz, "And I…am going to throw up!"_

"I threw up?" Hermione whined, "Aww! My streak is over! Vomit-free since secondary doesn't sound as cool!"

"Is that really what you're focusing on?" Victoria replied.

"Right, sorry, Milo. Go on"

_"Vik~tor" Hermione practically clung to Viktor as the two 'danced' (it was really more grinding and humping with music in the background), "Did you know that the word 'wanderlust' is German for 'strong desire to travel' Isn't that hauntingly beautiful?"_

_"Танцувай—hic— с—hic— мен, палавница" Viktor slurred._

_"Are you a vampire?"_

_"Are you two alright?" Milo appeared at Viktor's shoulder where Hermione seemed to be slipping off of him like water over rocks._

_"Yeah…" Hermione smiled dreamily, "Hey! How easy do you think it would be to sneak into the Kitchens? I have to see some House-elves like right now!"_

_"Alright, gimme your arm" Milo snatched the quill from Hermione's hand (which she still had for some reason) and used it to write a message onto her arm. "This way, if you pass out in the Lake—"_

_"—Hehe! That tickles!" Hermione giggled, referring to both the wizard suckling her neck and the quill against her arm._

_"—Someone will get a professor to help"_

_"Thanks Milo, you're such a sweet—hic—sweetie" She drunkenly patted his cheek before turning to Viktor. "C'me on! I wanna see an elf!"_

"…And then you two left, giggling like little schoolgirls" Milo finished, draining the last of his coffee much to his disappointment.

"I _am _a schoolgirl" Hermione reminded him, "Well, I guess that explains the elves…but what about the other bits?"

"I dunno" Milo shrugged, "That was the last I saw of you"

"RUN, WITCHES, RUN!" Cackled Peeves as he chased after students still shuffling through the walk of shame. His voice bounced around the castle and made several people—living and dead alike—wince at the volume, "DIRTY! DIRTY WITCHES! DANCING IN THE DARK!"

"Is that…?" Charlotte bent around the corner to try and see if she could glimpse the poltergeist.

"Peeves" Milo nodded, while Hermione went wide-eyed as Peeves' voice startled a memory to the surface of her mind.

"Mia?" Victoria narrowed her eyes at the look on her friend's face, "What is it?

"Oh Gods…" Hermione murmured.

"What? Did you remember something?"

"Maybe…"

_"Hold it" Hermione ordered with eye full of lust and skirt bunched up around her hips. Pressed up against one of the many stone benches that lined the castle's corridors, the pair had glued themselves together once more, this time clothes had become strewn about the place and they cared not for the spectators they would rouse (portrait or student alike). Plied with booze, Hermione's brain had switched the pain of loosing her virginity to the pleasure of the drink and feeling of another inside her. The power she felt bringing this beloved wizard to his knees, turning him form champion to putty in her hands…it was intoxicating!_

_"I…can't!" Viktor griped, his calloused fingers gripping tight to her hips in a futile attempt to ease the pressure on his bladder as she straddled his waist and mounted his cock like a jockey. The countless amount of alcohol the wizard had drunken that evening would put the Squid to shame and it sloshed around inside him. "Please палавница! I'm gonna piss!"_

_"What did I tell you?" Hermione purred, her hands hovering over the quivering wizard's overfilled bladder, "Not a drop until I say so"_

_"Please d-don't…" Viktor scrunched his eyes shut as he felt his cock twitch inside her. The tight, warm walls of the witch atop him held him still, but the occasional roll of her hips and twitch of her lips brought him closer and closer to the edge._

_"I'll go easy on you…" She gently pressed her fingertips onto his bare abdomen. Just the smallest touch was enough to make Viktor spasm and dig his fingers into her hips—she would surely bruise later on. He moaned as she pushed down on his bulging bladder and piss threatened to jettison out of him like a fire hose._

_"Circe…" Hermione breathed, pupils blown wide in lust and hair standing up like she had been electrocuted, "You're amazing" Leaning down, she plucked his fingers from her waist and pushed them above his head, indirectly telling him not let go. _

_"пала~вница…please…!" Viktor gasped._

_"Please what?"_

_"Fuck me!"_

_"Such a pretty mouth—" Hermione ran her tongue over her own lips as her eyes roved over his lip plump from previous snogging, "Aren't you going to put it to good use?"_

_Viktor needed no further encouragement as he quickly latched onto one of her nipples as they dangled above his head. Her dress was little more than a belt at this point, barely sitting on her frame and acting more as a poor cover-up of their activities and the pasties that had once adorned her nipples had been ripped free at some point in the night. _

_Hermione moaned as Viktor suckled at her nipple like a babe, though his hands were idle (trapped by her own) her hips were not. Rewarding him for his talented tongue, Hermione rolled her hips against his eliciting a similar sound of pleasure from the teen beneath her; one that rolled through her like a heat wave in summer. Without warning she pushed a knee into his bladder, pressing down—much harder than before—making the Bulgarian yelp as he tried, in vain, to sandwich his thighs together. HIs bladder pleaded for release, but he was simply following orders._

_"So beautiful…" Hermione murmured against his neck in between sloppy kisses to the vein that pulsated there. Running her hands down his biceps and forearms, Hermione forced her nipple out of Viktor's mouth as she peppered his chest with soft kisses that left him breathless._

_"Oh fuck! пала—ah!" He yelped with eyes screwed shut as a boiling hot wetness spread across his crotch and clenched his muscles to stop the flow. Hermione had not given the order and so he would not go._

_But it did not stop, and strangely he felt no relief. Hermione moaned loud and clear as her hands danced up her own chest and grasped tightly to her breasts, squeezing them in lewd satisfaction as she released her own bulging bladder onto Viktor's crotch. She made sure that her moans and the sounds of her piss drove him insane, even rolling her hips against his in an attempt to chase the orgasmic high that came with holding for so long._

_She felt him twitch within her, and so she kept going. Emphasising the pleasurable moans and the relief she felt for opening the floodgates, rapidly rolling her hips and bouncing up and down on his pulsating cock, for she knew it was torture. _

_Unable to take it anymore, Viktor thrust up into Hermione as he enjoyed the wetness which pooled out each time she rose just enough to let the piss flow out between them. "Ah…ah—ah! Mmm! Ah~! Yes!" Hermione moaned, lost in the throes of pleasure as she pissed all over Viktor while simultaneously riding his cock. _

_"палавница…!" Viktor gasped, the pressure becoming almost unbearable._

_"You…know…the rule…big boy!" Hermione gasped out, pleasuring herself as her stream began to trickle off, "Not—mmm!—not one drop, 'til—ooh!—'til I say…so!"_

_"Please!" He groaned, "Please палавница!" He bit his lip, gasping and groaning against the feeling of warm piss falling about his thighs. It was getting to be too much for the Bulgarian and a wave of desperation fell over him, pulling him down into the realms where pain and pleasure were one._

_When Hermione's stream eventually came to an end, she remained seat on his cock and leant forth, pinning his rising shoulders back onto the stone bench beneath them. His breaths came in gasps as she pressed her knee into his bladder. She felt it as a spurt of piss erupted from Viktor, coating her insides in his warmth. The gravelly moan that fell from his lips almost made her cum right there._

_"палавница…" Viktor begged, "Let me go! I vanna piss! Let me piss! I can't hold it! палавница…!"_

_"Good!" Hermione purred, pressing down on his bladder like she was trying to pop it. That was it, the dam crumpled. A deep moan of pleasurable relief followed the jet of piss that shot out of Viktor's cock and dribbled out of the cracks between the two; just as Hermione's piss had decorated Viktor, Viktor's now decorated her._

_"Yes…!" Hermione moaned, bouncing up and down on his cock once more as she gripped tight to her own breasts. "So…good!"_

_"My палавница…!" Viktor growled, his fingers once more digging into her hips as he rolled the two over in a move that spoke of practise. With her face smashed into the wet stone bench, Hermione lost herself in the waves of pleasure that rolled through her as Viktor ravished her. Skin against skin, flesh against flesh, the sounds of their lovemaking echoed in the air all around them, but they paid it no mind, so lost in the pleasure of the moment as they were._

_"Mo~ore!" Hermione ordered, never wanting this moment to end, but soon enough it would. Viktor's hip stuttered against her own and he collapsed atop her as cum replaced the piss shooting into her soaking womb. In turn, when he finally pulled out, a stream of piss and cum—a combination of the both of them—squirted out into the puddle of mess between the two._

"—Mia? Are you alright?" Victoria asked, shaking the younger witch's shoulder who stared off into space with a dreamy yet startled look splayed out on her features.

"I'm sure she's fine" Milo replied for her, "If that face is anything to go by"

_"DIRTY! DIRTY! WITCHES DANCING IN THE DARK!" Sang Peeves as he floated around the corner, making a game of spotting all those who had snuck off to shag their dates following the Ball earlier that evening. It was by pure chance that as Hermione and Viktor were tiredly redressing themselves that Ron happened upon the scene._

_Emerging from behind the portrait that led to the Kitchens, the pair of friends froze. Stuck like deer in the headlights, Hermione and Ron stared at each other like they couldn't believe what they were seeing. Her—holding her unzipped dress to her chest, clearly post-coitus—and him—laden with comfort foods and dressed in his pyjamas._

"Well, what's that face for then?" Victoria turned to Milo, clearly taking in how her friend's face had changed from dreamy to frozen, to furious in a matter of minutes.

"How should I know? I'm not a Legilimens" Milo shrugged.

_"You-you PERVERT!" Hermione drunkenly marched towards where Ron stood before them and swung her fist. Slugging him straight in the face, she barely heard the crunch of his nose breaking beneath her fist over his yelp of pain, nor the sound of the portraits around them who had awoken at the noise. Viktor—afraid of being punished by his ghastly headmaster—took that moment to vanish into the night and leaving Hermione to deal with the consequences, (he liked the witch, but not that much). _

_"OW! 'at da 'ell 'as dat for?!" Ron demanded rolling around on the floor and clutching tight to his now crooked and bleeding nose._

_"Ron! Hecate's tits! Are you alright?" She bent down, suddenly regretful of her actions._

_"Do I look alright?!" Ron glared at her._

_"Uh, right—" Haphazardly shoving her feet into her high heels and zipping up the back of her dress. Even in her drunken state she knew that she couldn't leave Ron on the floor as he was—stubborn boy wouldn't very likely seek medical attention on his own. "—Ma'am P—Hospital wing" she muttered giving a wordless flick of her wand and dashing off towards the hospital wing, mindless of her appearance or Ron's comments._

"Are you sure she's alright?" Charlotte questioned, titling her head as she studied the young Gryffindor. "Should we take her to see Ma'am P?"

"She seems fine" Milo replied peering over at the girl still lost in her memories, "She's probably just lost in her thoughts"

"Oh? I thought you said you weren't a Legilimens?"

"I'm not, but any idiot can see that's what's happening"

"Are you calling me an idiot?"

"If the wand fits…"

"Oi!"

_Hermione smiled as she watched the little yellow canary jump around its cage, flitting from the bird swing to the tightly woven wires. Even from her (forcefully chosen) bed in the hospital wing, she could see the little bird happily prance around its cage that was wedged between the medical texts in Pomfrey's office. _

_Pomfrey had given the two quite the grilling when she had shown up with a reluctant Ron in two. At first, she'd the impression that Ron had assaulted her in some way, given her state of dress, and had refused to heal him—said that any resulting injuries were his own fault. It wasn't until Hermione had jumped in to set things straight that the matron had eventually set the ginger's nose back into place. Unable to help herself, Hermione smiled at the thought. Not long after, sleep came to claim her._


	25. New Year, New Me!

**_January 1996_**

With the excitement of Christmas and the Yule Ball out of the way, the minds of the students now turned to all of the homework that they had neglected during the holidays. Everybody seemed to be feeling rather flat now that the holidays were over (especially with Guy Fawkes and New Years just passed), everyone that is except for Harry (who moved around the castle with a look of nervousness permanently etched onto his features) and all the bookworms who avidly enjoyed school, like Hermione.

The trouble was with January underway, the second task of the Triwizard Tournament seemed a lot closer than it was before. Hermione knew, that despite her consistent reminders, Harry had yet to even crack the egg open again, let alone figure out what it meant and she worried for him. Harry had practically snarled at her the other day when she had suggested visiting the Library for ideas.

She wasn't really sure what Viktor had figured out in regards to the tournament, he didn't really talk about it—he didn't really talk at all actually. Most days between the two were spent hiding from his glaring fan club or hiding away in secret places to either snog or read (sometimes to each other, and sometimes alone). To be fair, most days the tournament was the furthest thing from their minds.

On another note, she and Ron had seemingly made up—at least on the surface. Their little spat around Yule was basically swept under the rug, and it didn't hurt matters that Hermione had yet to remove the hex Molly had taught her, from Ron (the one involving the canary tucked away in Pomfrey's office). It was a little bit of blackmail that she refused to remove from above his head (she knew how he got with his jealousness and possessiveness), instead keeping it as insurance—admittedly she did forget about it not long after the New Year started.

And so on the first day of the new term, Hermione sauntered off to class weighed down by her books, parchment and quills, as per usual. Snow was still thick on the grounds, painting the landscape white and the greenhouse windows were constantly splattered in condensation so thick it looked like oil paint.

Nobody was looking forward to Care of Magical Creatures in this weather, even with the news that an unknown substitute would be taking them for a period of time. Ron had commented that at least the skrewts would probably warm them up nicely—either by chasing them down or blasting off so forcefully that Hagrid's cabin would catch fire. However when they arrived at Hagrid's cabin, they found their substitute—an elderly witch with closely cropped grey hair and a very prominent chin—standing before his front door. Hagrid's silhouette could be seen moving around inside his cabin, but he didn't come out. Whatever they were doing today, Hagrid didn't seem to be invited, much to his chagrin.

"Hurry up, now, the bell rang five minutes ago!" The witch barked at them as they struggled towards her through the snow.

"Who're you?" Ron demanded, "Where's Hagrid?"

_Typical. _Hermione mentally rolled her eyes, _They didn't_ _listen. Again._

"My name is Professor Grubbly-Plank" The elderly witch introduced briskly, "I am your temporary Care of Magical Creatures teacher"

"Where's Hagrid?" Harry repeated rather loudly an indignantly.

"He is indisposed" Grubbly-Plank replied shortly. Soft and unpleasant laughter trickled up from the back of the class. Turning, they were met with Malfoy and his gang of Slytherins who appeared unsurprised at the change in teachers. "This way please" Grubbly-Plank strode forth quickly towards the paddock where the Beauxbatons horses were shivering.

Hermione hurried to catch up to Harry and Ron who continued to rudely pester their teacher; sparing only a single glance back over her shoulder at Hagrid's cabin where she swore she saw him peeking through the curtains with a solemn expression on his face. Up ahead Harry was continuing to rudely demand answers. "What's wrong with Hagrid?"

"Never you mind" Grubbly-Plank retorted as though she though he was being nosy.

"I do mind though" Harry snapped, hotly "What's up with him?" But the professor just acted as if she couldn't hear him and marched on.

The closer to the Forest the class ventured, the more at ease Hermione felt; it was like coming home. She could feel the magic calling out to her—not just from the coven's warded clearing, but also from all the creatures hidden within. Grubbly-Plank led them passed the paddock where the huge Beauxbatons horses were standing huddled like penguins against the biting cold, and over towards a tree on the edge of the Forest where a large and beautiful unicorn was tethered.

Hermione, alongside many of the other girls, "Oohed!" and "Ahhed!" at the sight of the magnificent creature. The unicorn was so brightly coloured in pure white that it made the snow around them appear grey. It was pawing the ground nervously with golden hooves and throwing back its horned head.

"Oh! It's so beautiful!" Lavender gushed as she passed by as if drawn towards the creature by some unseen force, "How'd she get it? They're s'posed to be really hard to catch!"

"Boys! Keep back!" Barked Grubbly-Plank, throwing out an arm and catching Harry hard in the chest as Hermione slipped by. "They prefer the woman's touch, unicorns. Girls to the front, and approach with care, c'me on now, easy does it…"

All the young witches followed after the professor as they slowly stalked forth toward the unicorn, leaving the boys to stand neat the paddock fence, watching. The moment they came within reaching distance of the beast, Grubbly-Plank pulled out a thin slice of steak of all things, and offered it to the beast. "Pure though the beast may be, but weak it is not…" Grubby-Plank stated as razor-like fangs tore into the meat in such a fashion that reminded Hermione of a starving dog.

You would think a display such as this would have put the girls off, but oh no! Just as with any other good-looking thing throughout history, the girls were drawn to it mindless of how dangerous the pretty beast may have been. Running a hand over the flank of the happy creature, Hermione was met with fur so soft that it almost seemed surreal. Absentmindedly she recognised that Grubbly-Plank was listing off endless facts about unicorns, but Hermione—like most of the girls—was too captivated with the beast before them to pay much attention to the word falling from her lips. Like sailors enchanted by a siren, the witches happily stroked and petted the unicorn until it seemed to have grown tired of their affections and Grubbly-Plank had since run dry on her slices of meat.

"I hope she stays, that woman!" Parvati exclaimed excitedly when the lesson ended and they were all trudging back up through the snow to the castle. "That's more what I though Care of Magical Creatures would be like…proper creatures like unicorns, not monsters…" _Yeah, me too. _Hermione thought, a little guilty that she preferred the elderly witch over her friend.

"What about Hagrid? Harry angrily snapped as they went up the steps.

"What about him?" Parvati's voice turned hard and cold, "He can still be gamekeeper, can't he?" Both Patil twins had been rather cold towards the male thirds of the Golden Trio following the Yule Ball—not that Hermione could blame them.

"That was a really good lesson" Hermione commented as they became swamped by the warmth of the Great Hall "I didn't know half the things Professor Grubbly-Plank told us about unic—"

"—So you agree with them, then?" Harry snarled. "You think Hagrid is better off as the gamekeeper?"

"Harry" Hermione sighed as she poured herself some tea, "Did you not listen to _anything _Angelina said yesterday?" When she received no reply from either of the boys across from her, she sighed again _"Remember: _she said that Hagrid was put on sabbatical at the beginning of term because Dumbledore received so many complaints from parents about his teaching style" She set down the kettle and blew on her mug, trying to cool the floral tea within "He'll probably only be gone for the term or so—it's not like he's dead, y'know. You can still talk to him, he just won't be teaching us any time soon"

"Sabbatical?" Ron puzzled, confused by the word.

"Like paid leave" Hermione supplied.

"We've _got to _go and see him!" Harry declared, "This evening, after Divination. Tell him we want him back…you _do _want him back, right?" He shot Hermione a look, daring her to disagree.

"I—well, I'm not going to pretend it didn't make a nice chance having a _proper _Care of Magical Creatures lesson for once" Hermione stammered, quailing under Harry's furious stare "—But I want Hagrid back, I do!" She added hastily.

So that evening, after dinner, the three of the them bundled up in their warmest clothes and left the castle once more, trudging down through the frozen grounds to Hagrid's cabin. Harry's knocks pounded on the door and the trio were met with the bellowing barks of Fang on the other side of the wooden door. "Hagrid! It's us!" Harry tried, still pounding on the door as if that would help "Open up!"

But Hagrid didn't answer and they heard no footsteps approach the door. Only Fang's whining and scratching at the door answered their calls, leaving them to wonder what was going on. _Oh! The whole castle can probably hear us! _Hermione moaned as they hammered on the door for ten more minutes; Ron even went around the side and banged on the windows, rattling them, but there was no response. The curtains remained firmly shut and no one came out to greet them.

"What's he avoiding _us_ for?" Ron puzzled when they finally gave up and were walking back to the school. "He surely doesn't think _we _care about his teaching style?" But it seemed he _did care. _Whatever had been in those letters from the outraged parents had served to cower the half-giant wizard into a such a depressive state that he refused to greet even Harry.

They didn't see hair nor hide of him all week: he didn't appear at the staff table for mealtimes, they didn't see him going about his gamekeeper duties and Grubbly-Plank continued on as their temporary teacher for Care of Magical Creatures. It didn't help matters that Malfoy took every chance to taunt and gloat about the absent man. "Missing your illiterate pal?" He'd whispered to Harry whenever a teacher was around, so that he was safe from Harry's retaliation, "Adding another idiot to your collection?" Hermione had a right old time trying to wrangle the two from trying to kill the blonde over those weeks.

* * *

Inevitably when the Hogsmeade weekend rolled around halfway through January, many students leapt at the chance for a break in their studies. Surprisingly, even Harry expressed desire in attending. "I just though you'd want to take advantage of the common room being quiet" Hermione nagged, "Really get to work on that egg"

"Oh I—I reckon I've got pretty good idea what it's about now" Harry lied, scratching his scar as he did so.

"Have you really?" Hermione narrowed her eyes at the squirming boy, well-aware that he was lying straight to her face. "What's it say then?"

"O-oh you know, this and that" Harry squirmed.

"Mm~hm" Hermione left it alone. She knew he had about five weeks left to figure it out, after all, and knowing him, he'd probably pull some kind of trick out of his arse at the last second. And do it brilliantly, like it was planned all along—it was just how he functioned, it was a wonder he wasn't dead already.

When Saturday rolled around, the Golden trio—bound in layers of woollen sweaters, worn denim and fuzzy hats—left the castle and set off through the cold, wet grounds towards the gates. As the passed by the Durmstrang ship, Hermione spared a wave at Viktor who had emerged out onto the deck in nothing more than his swimming trunks. Waving back, the teen climbed up to the top of the ship before diving into the freezing waters beneath. "He's mad!" Harry cried, staring Krum's dark head bobbing in the lake, "It must be _freezing! _It's January!"

"It's a lot colder where he's from" Hermione informed them, "I s'pose it feels quite warm to him"

"Yeah, but there's still the giant squid" Muttered Ron, who didn't sound anxious at all—if anything he sounded, almost hopeful.

"He's really nice, you know" Hermione frowned, catching the ginger's tone. "He's not all like you think, coming from Durmstrang. He likes it much better here, he told me so"

Ron said nothing and Hermione considered the argument won. Then again, he hadn't really mentioned Viktor since the Ball, but the occasional glare or frown whenever the wizard was mentioned showed Hermione just what he now thought of him. She was pretty sure the miniature he'd gotten from the Cup was mutilated as well, considering she'd found Crookshanks chewing on the headless and armless figurine.

As they walked, Harry kept his eyes peeled for Hagrid, peering into every store window as they passed and it was only once he had ascertained that his giant friend was nowhere to be found that he suggested the _Three Broomsticks _for lunch. The pub was as crowded as ever, a rush of warmth and chattered rushing to greet them when Ron heaved the old oak door open.

Tugging the boys out of the doorway and over to the bar, the three ordered their butterbeers and a basket of curly fries from Madam Rosemerta. Hermione's gaze wandered from Rosemerta's practise movements over to the multicoloured bottles behind the bar, before becoming stuck on something in the large frosty mirror. "Doesn't he _ever _go into the office?" Hermione whispered, "Look!"

Both boys followed her finger towards the mirror behind the bar which showcased the reflection of Ludo Bagman sitting a shadowy corner with a bunch of goblins; he appeared to be talking very fast and in a low voice to the goblins, all of whom had their arms crossed rather menacingly. He appeared rather strained—almost as badly as the night in the forest at the Cup, before the Dark Mark had been conjured—but then Bagman chose that moment to spare a glance towards the bar and upon catching sight of Harry, stood up.

"In a moment! In a moment!" She heard him brusquely say to the goblins before escaping towards the trio, with his boyish grin back in place. "Harry! How're you? Been hoping to run into you! Everything going all right?"

"Fine thanks" Harry replied tersely.

"Wonder if I could have a quick, private word, Harry?" Bagman said eagerly as Rosemerta placed their orders on the counter, "You couldn't give us a moment, could you?"

"Er—okay" Ron plucked his butterbeer and the baskets of fries from the bar and Hermione followed after, trying to snatch a few before the ginger devoured them all as they tried to find a table in the meantime.

"What d'ya s'pose he wants with Harry?" Hermione asked as the pair managed to snatch a free table from a gaggle of witches who glared heatedly at the pair before storming off in a huff.

"Dad says he's big gambler—" Ron mumbled around a mouthful of fries, making Hermione scrunch her nose up at his table manners, "—maybe it's something to do with the tournament?"

"What? You think he's betting on Harry?" Hermione munched on the fry she had plucked from the basket.

"It's probably why the goblins are here" Ron shrugged, "Dad says he's terrible at keeping up his end of the deal"

"Fred and George won't be happy then"

"Huh?"

"They gambled with him before the Cup—said Ireland would win—they've been trying been trying to corner him all year, see?" The pair turned just in time to see Harry slip from Bagman's grasp just as Fred and George appeared to hound the man for their winnings. It didn't take long for the man to slip through the door with the horde of goblins trailing angrily after him.

"What did he want?" Ron asked the moment Harry sat down and dug into the remnants of the fries.

"He offered me help with the golden egg" Harry replied around a mouthful of fries.

"He shouldn't be doing that!" Hermione scolded. "He's one of the judges! And anyway, you've already worked it out—haven't you?"

"Er…nearly"

"Well, I don't think Dumbledore would like it if he knew Bagman was trying to persuade you to cheat! I hope he's trying to help Cedric as much!"

"He's not, I asked"

"Who cares if Diggory's getting help?" Interjected Ron.

"Those goblins didn't look very friendly" Hermione switched topics as she sipped at her butterbeer. "What were they doing here?"

"Looking for Crouch, according to Bagman" Replied Harry. "He's still ill—hasn't been into work"

"Maybe Percy's poisoning him?" Ron suggested half-heartedly. "Probably thinks if Crouch snuffs it he'll be Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation"

"Funny, goblins looking for Mr Crouch" Hermione shot Ron a look that screamed _'don't joke about things like that' _"They'd normally deal with the Department for the Regulation & Control of Magical Creatures…"

"Crouch can speak loads of different languages though" Harry said. "Maybe they need an interpreter?"

"Yeah, but any old idiot can speak Troll—you just have to grunt and nod in the right places" Said Ron.

"Is that how you beat the one in first year?" Harry teased, grinning cheekily.

"Like you can talk, wand sniffer!"

"Slug shooter!"

"Broom berk!"

"I'm surrounded by idiots" Hermione sighed fondly, watching amusedly as the two flung childish insults back and forth in good fun. "Complete and utter idiots"


End file.
